When the Greatest Gift You Can Give Is Your Time

“And he fell upon his brother Benjamin’s neck, and wept; and Benjamin wept upon his neck.”
Genesis 45:14 King James Version

Yesterday, our son, Xavier, turned twelve. One of the gifts he received was a five-minute conversation with his older brother, whose voice he hadn’t heard in almost two years. When I told Xavier he was about to speak with his brother, he looked taken aback. Fear came into his eyes, and he shook his head no. After a few minutes to think, he turned off his other distractions and readied himself for the call. He was preparing for something that seems so ordinary to many of us: hearing from a sibling.

We can become so used to having access to the people we love that an incoming call feels like an interruption. We might sigh, roll our eyes, or decide we’ll call back later. But Xavier had waited almost two years to hear this voice. He’d wondered about his brother and tried to put that longing out of his mind. Now the moment was here, and it was a lot for his twelve-year-old heart to hold. The conversation centered on reptiles, a shared interest Xavier had picked up from his older brother. They talked about something they both enjoyed. For five minutes, they had that connection again.

As I thought about them talking, I was reminded of Joseph and Benjamin. In Genesis 45, Joseph reveals his identity to his brothers after years of separation. When he embraces his younger brother, Benjamin, Joseph weeps, and Benjamin weeps too. The chapter goes on to describe Joseph kissing his brothers and weeping over them before they talk with him. What stays with me is that Scripture makes room for those tears. It records the emotion of brothers being together again. Their tears remind me how deeply we can miss someone, even when we don’t have the words to explain it.

Watching Xavier, I thought about how easily we can underestimate what our presence means to another person. We know how busy we are. We know what’s on our schedule. We may have no idea how long someone has been hoping to hear our voice. Sometimes the greatest gift we can give is our time. A few minutes of listening can tell someone they matter to us. A conversation about an ordinary interest can become a memory they carry long after the call ends.

The reasons people are apart can be complicated, and a brief conversation may leave much unresolved. Even so, there can be grace in a moment of connection. I believe God can meet us there, in the willingness to listen and in the joy of hearing someone we’ve missed. It makes me want to be more thoughtful about the time I give the people I love. Who might be hoping to hear from me? When someone calls, can I set aside my distractions and give them my attention? I don’t always know what those minutes will mean to them.

At the end of their five-minute conversation, I heard his older brother say, “All right, buddy. It was great to talk to you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your birthday.” Then the call ended.

Xavier placed his phone on his desk and began crying so hard that he was trembling. I ran over and wrapped my arms around him. “Are you okay?” I asked. “Are those happy tears?” He could only nod yes. The words wouldn’t come through all the emotion he was experiencing.

I let his older brother know about those tears of joy and how much that birthday phone call had meant to his little brother. He responded, “It made me so happy to hear his voice again.” When Xavier had calmed down, I repeated his older brother’s words to him. And my overjoyed twelve-year-old started crying all over again.

Xavier’s tears reminded me how much love can be felt in a few minutes of someone’s time. The joy of hearing his brother again grew even deeper when he learned that his brother was happy, too. May God help us recognize the moments when we can offer that kind of care. When we slow down enough to listen, we may discover that the time we thought was so small meant more to someone than we ever imagined.

Reflection Questions

Who in my life might be longing for a few minutes of my attention?

What distractions keep me from being fully present with the people I love?

When has someone’s time made me feel remembered and valued?

What thoughtful step can I take this week to offer someone my time?

Prayer

Heavenly Father, thank You for the people You’ve placed in our lives and for the moments of connection that remind us we’re loved. Help us notice when someone needs our attention. Teach us to slow down, listen well, and give our time with willing hearts. Be close to those who are missing someone they love. Give us wisdom and gentleness as we care for one another, and help us recognize the opportunities You give us to show Your love. In Jesus’ name, Amen.