I'm breaking to breathe and to think and to study God before I begin to study the course again. And I open my favourite blog, wondering what soul-nourishing and breath-abling words she'd written today, that Canadian farmer's wife and mother whose love for God shines in all she says.
And as I read her words, I find my breath is going, my heart is contracting... or, more accurately, my breath is leaving because I'm seeing my heart for the size it is: tiny...
Because she's in Africa and all around her the poor are bringing their widows offering, throw their last two copper coins onto the offering table and she's crying to know why the rich don't give because they think it will ruin them and why the poor do give because they know it will make them.
And I find my breath going because I know I am the rich who doesn't give because I fear it will ruin me... and why can't I risk everything I've got, give as freely as the poor give? Why does this selfish heart cling to the trifles God has given me in His love instead of working as His ambassador - selfishly, uncomfortably, honestly, boldly...
Why, when I feel His selfless hand touch my selfish heart, do I shrink away?
The selfless and the selfish can not exist together... so why do I cling to the selfish, and live as a beggar? Why do I not let His selfless hand destroy my selfish heart and create a heart of abounding love?
And I know I'm not the only one depriving myself of His love by loving myself and my wants first... all around me I see Christians sick with the same starvation, killing themselves by feeding on self-love and not on God-love.
I'm as bad as the rest of them...
And I see the truth of those crazy, powerful words that crazy powerful carpenter spoke on a distant mount: "blessed are the poor, for they will inherit the kingdom of God"... the Kingdom of God is the Kingdom of Love and the poor live the love far more often than the rich, for they give all for the Kingdom... and the Kingdom gives to them
And only last Friday a bishop from the Congo spoke in chapel, his words full of love and sacrifice, his ambitions soaring higher than that of any man, woman, boy and girl provided for that I have ever met: he dreamt of building a guest house, so that he had more money to care for the poor, the orphaned, the widowed. He dreamt of feeding his people on the Word of God, the only food that matters. He dreamt of giving his all so that others might have all.
And I find the selfless hand of God reaching for my selfish heart and my breathing is ragged and I'm wondering if I can make that change.
To live as a widow giving her last copper coins. To be a Ruth who abandons all for the love of God. To be an Esther, working for the materially destitute of God's people because I have been given wealth for such a time as this. To be a Mary, willing to risk my life, my honour, the respect of those who love me and who I love so that the plans of God can be worked out.
But can this selfish heart be made selfless and loving?
Only by the selfless, loving offering of Jesus' blood.
And my breathing slowly settles,
though my heart stills tries to flee,
the love of God will do His work in me.
No comments:
Post a Comment