What You Give is What You Will Get Back.

With life and love, what you give is what you will get back. What you plant, you will eventually harvest; what you set in motion, will sooner or later come back upon you. You could call it “karma” or the cosmic law of cause and effect. Like a boomerang, whatever you put out will come back to you in some form.

You alone can plant the unique seeds of your love and good will into the hearts of others. This is something you must do on your own, or it will not get done. Each of us has love to give, which if we refuse to give, no one else can give for us. They can give their own love, but not ours. And never underestimate the difference your caring can make—to you as well as to others. However slight, the world will actually suffer loss; life will be that much less hospitable. Think how impoverished the world is due to the love available yet not given, the seeds we hold in our hands and hearts but refuse to plant into others.

It is not always true, of course, that what you give is what you get. Sometimes you receive a harvest of affection from another that you did not really earn. In that case, others planted before you were on the scene; and still others nourished what you were fortunate to be there to harvest.

Sometimes you attempt to plant as best you can the seeds of your caring into a hardened and unreceptive heart. So you derive no yield. This is why Jesus of Nazareth, that Johnny Appleseed-like planter of love into human hearts, said that you should keep on casting forth the seeds of caring regardless of those who do not let it in, whether only for now or forever. He said that human souls were like soil types, so that even if some soils—make that souls—do not yield the fruit of reciprocal love, others will, and in sufficient quantity and quality to more than justify your planting. Therefore, plant the seeds your caring anyway, for you can never know for sure how it will ultimately affect others. The results will surprise you, however; the bounty of love returned will always be sufficient for your satisfaction and even celebration.

I have found this true in my life and the lives of others I have been fortunate to know. I have known people who had an indomitable good will, who saw the best in others and gave of themselves in countless little ways. The fruit of their lives always turned out to be well worth their efforts, the yield far greater than their planting of the tender seeds of caring.

In my years as a parish pastor, I have been temporarily adopted as a family member when a loved one was at the end of their days. And I have witnessed the streams of visitors, calls, cards, letters, flowers, and food. I have heard a myriad of stories of the large and little ways they had been there for others, shown caring when and how it needed to be shown. I have felt the intense desire of family and friends, and sometimes of whole communities to say “thank you,” and “we love you” before the love giver passed on.

Conducting the funerals for such unsung servants of love was a humbling honor. When others rose up to tell how the deceased had affected their lives, it was abundantly clear that the love seeds they planted had come back as seed-bearing fruit.