Offerings

I’ve been quiet lately. My thoughts are numerous but my ability to articulate them as I’d like has diminished with their weight. It has been that sort of season. One where the burdens of friends and family are often too much to bear and I’m thankful I do not have to bear them alone. One where the trials of other people’s lives make those of my life seem trivial and seemingly not worth documenting. But an old friend once said, “We do ourselves and others a disservice by trying to compare whose trial is hardest.” So here I am. My heart is heavy and yet I have tremendous hope in the one who gives perfect hope.

A quote I read a few months back is partially to blame. It has stuck with me and permeated my thoughts from day to day since it appeared on my Facebook feed. I’m sure you’ve been there too; one of those paragraphs you just can’t shake until you work it through: “You know, it’s possible that God’s plan for us is littleness. His plan for us may be personal failure. It’s possible that when another door closes, it’s not because he plans to open the window, but because he plans to have the building fall down on you. The question we must ask ourselves is this: Will Christ be enough?” Jared Wilson, The Story of Everything, p122

It just so happens (providentially) that I’m also doing a Bible study with some of the women at our church on the Book of Job.  So, I’ve been pondering a lot about what it means to be little. To be nothing. In the sight of the world anyway. To be in a place, perhaps for the rest of my days, that is not one I’d choose. That is not one I’d dream of. That is not one I like. I have been thinking about what it would be like if I, like Job, had everything taken from me. Yet, it was never restored. To be terminally sick. Falsely accused and imprisoned. Widowed or divorced. Left to walk the rest of my days without my children beside me.

What if I had to live that life until Christ called me home. Would he be enough? Would I still consider his Word, the Bible, to be enough? Would I praise his holiness and goodness in my littleness? Would my fears be stilled and my striving cease, as the hymn goes? Would I be fulfilled if I was never able to do another thing I wanted to do, be that thing the most righteous offering I have?

“God gives us urges and desires and things we would like to do and some of the time I really believe he gives it to us so that we have something to put on the altar…. That burning urge you have to do something that you don’t believe you’re called to do right now is sometimes just a gift from God so that you have something to give him.” Rachel Jankovich or Bekah Merkle (I really wish I could remember who’s who.)

A gift to lay on the altar. My desires are God-given gifts. My dreams are offerings. They are to be laid on the altar of my heart and offered to him.

I’d like to think that my view of Christ is big enough to say “yes” to any offering I’m called to give. It might be a small, weak yes, rather than a resounding shout, but it would still be a yes. Yes, Christ is enough. Yes, Scripture is enough. Yes, I would be fulfilled in Him alone. Yes. Because if it’s not a yes, where does that leave me? What does that say about my faith? It might be a sincere faith, but it is not really faith in God as he has proclaimed and revealed himself to be. In scripture. As sovereign over all of my life. And if not a yes, where does that leave his love for me? His goodness toward me? His perfect plan for my life?

So, yes.  As painful as it is. As difficult as it is. By his grace I can lay it all down.