I’ve often wondered what happened day to day for the apostles while they were with Jesus and after He ascended to the Father.

Maybe one day, Philip and Nathanael were sitting together on the Mount of Olives a few weeks after the Holy Spirit descended upon them in a rather dramatic fashion, tongues of fire and all. A scene something like this:

Philip watched the evening light settle over Jerusalem.

“Do you ever wonder if this will last?” he finally asked.

Nathanael turned toward him.

“What will last?”

Philip searched for the right words.

“The courage to preach so that thousands are converted. Being able to speak in languages we never learned. The miracles. You know, everything that has happened since the Spirit came. What if…”

His voice trailed off, but Nathanael urged him to continue.

“Peter stands before enormous crowds as though he has done it all his life. John speaks with such certainty. Everywhere we go, people are talking about a new Kingdom of God. But I’m not as important as them, and sometimes I wonder how long it can continue.”

He paused, pulled up some grass, and let it drift on the breeze.

“All my life, I have known that everything eventually runs out. Grain and oil run out. Silver coins run out while we’re still hungry. After a while, even strength runs out.”

Philip hung his head and said softly,

“What if one day my courage runs out? What if I stand before a crowd and suddenly forget what to say? What if, they don’t understand me and think I’m crazy? I’m afraid of being left on my own.”

Nathanael was quiet for a long moment.

“I think you’re looking at this the wrong way. A lot of the group worries about the same thing.”

Philip lifted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“We keep speaking as though the Father and Jesus handed us a bag full of gifts from the Spirit and told us to make them last. As though one day we’ll reach inside and discover the bag is empty.”

Nathanael looked toward the city below.

“That cannot happen. Jesus promised that the Spirit would remain with us forever. He didn’t give us something that could be used up. He gave us His own eternal presence.”

Philip thought for a moment, then lay on his back as the stars started to come out.

“The Holy Spirit is not something we consume,” Nathanael continued earnestly, ” The question is not whether the gifts will run out. The question is whether we will continue trusting in the One who gives them.”

Philip was silent for a moment.

“But what if one day God grows tired of me? What if He decides I am not worthy of these spiritual gifts after all?”

Nathanael laughed.

“Philip! We are all unworthy. Yet God chose us anyway. Don’t ask me why.”

Philip narrowed his eyes with a glint of humor.

“How did you get to be so smart?”

“I spend a lot of time under fig trees,” Nathanael replied. “You’d be amazed what happens when you stop trying to rationally solve everything.”

After a moment, Philip said quietly,

“For a long time, I have been afraid that one day I might reach the end of what God has given me.”

“And?”

Philip smiled.

“How does one reach the end of something that comes from the eternal God?”

Nathanael laughed.

“Exactly.”

The apostles grew up in a world of scarcity. We live in a world of scarcity, abundance, and continual transactions. Everything is bought, sold, or traded. We learn early, no matter what social class or situation we were born into, that nothing is truly free.

When someone offers a “free gift,” we instinctively wonder what the catch might be. We ask ourselves what obligation will follow, what payment will eventually be required, or what condition might be hidden somewhere in the fine print. If something seems too good to be true, it probably isn’t. We carry that suspicion into our spiritual lives and assume that God’s generosity must have limits as well.

But the Holy Spirit does not operate according to the logic of scarcity or transactions, nor is the Spirit a heavenly account that slowly drains as we make withdrawals. The Holy Spirit is the living presence of God Himself.

We imagine grace as though it were a finite reserve that might one day be depleted. Yet God does not run out of mercy, wisdom, courage, patience, or love because God does not run out of Himself. The source of every spiritual gift can never be exhausted. Its source is the eternal God, limitless in its abundance and unchanging in its mercy and generosity.

The Spirit is not a product to be acquired, nor a reward reserved for those who have finally proven themselves worthy. God will not withhold a gift because we made an error. We become worthy through the gifts given to us. The more we use our own unique gifts to spread the Word of God and make this world a better place, the more graces will be showered upon us. The Spirit works in multiplication, not subtraction.

The greatest gift at Pentecost was never the miracle, the healing, the bold sermon, the speaking in tongues, or any other extraordinary sign. Those were manifestations of a deeper reality. The greatest gift was, and always will be, the abiding presence of the Giver in our lives. And He gives us Himself every single day!

There is no need to cry out, “Come, Holy Spirit, descend upon me!” The Spirit is already with us if we take a moment to quiet our thoughts, recognize Him in our lives, and truly listen to what He is saying.

So, let’s stop being suspicious and searching for the fine print, because there is none. God is shouting to us, every day, every hour, every minute,

I love you! Yes, you over there in the corner with the doubtful look on your face. I’m giving you everything! An unlimited supply of gifts! And yes, it’s all free for the asking. Why? Because I love you.

Instead of arguing that we are unworthy or whatever else our imagination has led us to believe, let’s just stop and say humbly, “Thank you, God. I love you too.”