Tax Day

Here in the United States, April 15th is Tax Day. 

Sometime before we get to that day, we who live in the United States have gathered our receipts, looked at the numbers, calculated what we owe - or perhaps what we are owed. On Tax Day, we either send money to the government or we send notice to the government that they need to send money back to us. 

For some folks, tax day comes with a quiet sense of relief. We have worked hard. We have done our part. We have paid our taxes ahead of schedule. To our great relief, some of what was taken from us will be returned to us.

For many, it comes with a kind of dread. We have worked hard. We have done our part - but we didn’t pay our taxes ahead of schedule. We kept more of our income for ourselves, and now we must send away more of what we wish we could hold onto a little longer.

And as I reflect on tax day, I realize that tax season and tax day are not the only things in life that ask something from us.

There are seasons that feel… taxing.

Seasons that require more energy than we feel we have. More patience. More resilience. More showing up. 

There are days when we are holding grief in one hand and responsibility in the other. Days when we keep pressing forward, not because it is easy, but because it is necessary. Days when the news seems to be about nothing but war, violence, climate disasters and relational disruptions. Days when it feels like life keeps asking, and asking, and asking - but we have nothing more to give.

And in the midst of all of that, it feels like even hope is something we are expected to produce on demand. As if hope is one more thing on the to-do list:

Make your bed. Fold your laundry. Pay your taxes. Be strong. Have faith. Stay hopeful.

But what I am learning - slowly, and sometimes reluctantly - is this:

Hope is not taxing. Hope does not demand more from us. Hope does not require us to have everything together.Hope is not something we manufacture through effort or willpower.

Hope is something that is given.

It often comes quietly. In a moment of unexpected grace. (Then again, isn’t grace always unexpected?) In a conversation that reminds us of our belovedness. In a story of forgiveness instead of vindictiveness. In an invitation instead of a rejection.In a breath we didn’t realize we were holding, finally released. In a hug we didn’t realize we were resisting, finally accepted. In the simple realization that we have made it through another day.

Scripture reminds us that “the one who began a good work in you (and me) will carry it on to completion” (Philippians 1:6).

That means the work is not only ours. It doesn’t only depend on us. 

That means we are not the only ones responsible for holding our lives together.

That means that even in seasons that feel depleting, we can hold onto the hope that something is still being sustained. Something is still being carried. Something is still being created. Something is still being offered. Something is still being given.

Hope, then, is not another demand.

It is a gift.

It is the quiet assurance that our story is not finished. That life is still, somehow, making room for something new. That God is still at work. 

So on tax day, and every other day, even though you will undoubtedly be asked to give things away - money, time, energy, attention - I invite you to pause long enough to notice what is being given to you.

A small kindness. The sound of birdsong. A reason to smile. A breath of peace. The scent of someone’s cologne. A moment of steadiness. The feel of your pillowcase against your cheek. The sight of a flower in bloom in a cactus. A reminder to be present in this moment. Right here. Right now. 

Not everything in life is a loss.

Some things are still being given. 

May you receive and experience a Nevertheless kind of HOPE - even on Tax Day.

Journaling Prompts

1. What is most “taxing” in your life right now - emotionally, physically, relationally and/or spiritually?

2. Where and when has something been given back to you - however small - in the past seven to ten days? 

3. How and when will you give something back to yourself today?