Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God's grace in its various forms. If you speak, you should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If you serve, you should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen.

Now, Camy . . .

"No, God. No way."

This is what you're called to do. "Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others..."

"I don't care. I'm not doing it."

Who will do it if not you?

"He doesn't deserve it, so why should it matter?"

That's not for you to decide.

"Sure it is! I'm the one wronged here."

You're not really wronged. You weren't put in prison or sued or anything like that. Think of poor Paul.

"I was deprived of wages owed to me."

The more reason to give grace: " . . . as faithful stewards of God's grace in its various forms." Besides, bonuses are not owed to you.

"They are if everyone else gets them except for me."

[Sigh. Shake of the head.]

"No."

I'm not asking you to be crucified and rise from the dead. Hint, hint.

[Ignoring the hint.] "You're asking me to use my talents to serve someone who wronged me. How is that fair?"

Excuse me, those are God-given talents, Camy. "Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others..."

"I'm still the one doing them. The gift of service involves my body, my actions, my money buying the food and preparing it, bringing it to work. I was counting on that bonus! I'm in poverty now."

The loss of a $200 bonus does not thrust you into poverty.

"Close enough. I deserved that bonus."

I'm not denying that.

"Then why did you allow my boss to deny me my bonus—"

All things work together for good for those—

"—because the imbecile changed his mind last minute and then blamed me and took away my bonus—"

But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute—

"—because he forgot to tell me about the change of plans?"

If someone slaps you on the cheek, turn the other also.

"This is about my gifts and talents, not about forgiveness."

This is about you serving others with a good heart. Remember? "Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others . . ."

"Yeah, my church body. My boss is not part of my church body—"

Do you see the words "church body" in that verse? I don't think so.

"Why do I have to serve him? I don't want to serve him."

You are emphasizing the wrong word. It's not him who is important.

"Huh?"

Sure, you're the one doing the serving. But you're serving by my power, not yours. "If you serve, you should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ."

"I don't get it."

It's not about you serving, it's not about serving him—it's all about my gift given to you, being used by my power, entirely for my glory. Capisce?

"I guess so."

Gee, you sound so thrilled.

"But—"

No buts. Go home, bake that birthday cake for your boss's surprise party, and do it with my Spirit in your heart. Do it for me. Okay?

[Grudgingly.] "Okay."

Trust me, You're doing the right thing, and that's reward enough—more than a $200 bonus.

I open my mouth and tell my boss's secretary, "Sure, Lois, I'll bake his cake for the party."

She will never know he unfairly denied me my bonus. My boss will never know I baked his cake for him.

But God knows—boy, does he know—and he's happy that I'm using what he gave me for his will. And maybe by the time I'm frosting the dumb thing, I'll start to serve with the kind of heart God wouldn't be ashamed of.