A spunky pastor’s wife of 30-plus years, Jeanette Levellie is a mother, grandmother, and cat lover. She authors a humor/inspirational column in her local newspaper, and is a prolific writer and speaker. Jeanette has published magazine articles, stories in anthologies, Devotions, greeting card verses, and calendar poems. Jeanette’s debut humor/inspirational book, Two Scoops of Grace with Chuckles on Top, published April, 2012, by Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas.
Rats. I had forgotten to bring my secret offering. As the communion music ended, I opened my purse to find nothing but a wheat-back penny. I’d saved wheat-backs for years, hoping to cash them in someday for a large profit. I figured by the time I was 80 my collection would be worth say, 50 cents or one dollar. My investment savoir-faire amazed me.
It’s not that I begrudge you this wheat-back, Lord, I thought. But, what about the deacon who sees me put it in the plate? I’d hate him to think I’m cheap. Plus, he might go home and tell his wife how I put only a penny in the offering. They’d shake their heads at my stingy attitude. You wouldn’t want that to happen would you, Lord? Since I’m the preacher’s wife, I should maintain a little dignity here, don’t You think? Lord?
No answer.
Several months earlier, the Lord had nudged me to bring an offering whenever I attended church. He didn’t require a set amount. He only asked that I bring something in addition to my tithe, every time.
I thought that perhaps He was trying to teach me to show my appreciation for Him in a tangible way. Or that giving more would increase my love for His people. Yes, that must be it. I generally loved Jesus and His church; it was people who challenged my resolve to walk in love.
But no. He had bigger plans.
The first few weeks, I obeyed with ease. I usually had an extra dollar or two in my wallet. If not, I could rummage around the house before church and find a bill or coin to bring.
My obedience soon grew horns of smugness. I hadn’t told anyone except my husband about my secret offerings. Not only was I giving extra each week, I was giving in secret. Wow. I impressed myself with my Devotion to the Lord. Until this Sunday.
Lord, I’m the minister’s wife. Won’t I set a poor example putting a penny in the plate?
Still no answer. I sensed my Father was more interested in my obedience than in what Deacon Loy thought of me. I did remember reading, “To obey is better than sacrifice (
1 Samuel 15:22
But Samuel replied,"What is more pleasing to the LORD: your burnt offerings and sacrifices or your obedience to his voice?Listen! Obedience is better than sacrifice, and submission is better than offering the fat of rams.
OPEN VERSE IN BIBLE (nlt)
, NIV).” So I slipped the penny onto the crimson felt and bowed my head, pretending to appear nonchalant.
I’d love to tell you that since that day, one stranger after another has flagged me down on the street to put $100 bills in my hand, or sent me cards bursting with checks, that the bank called to tell us our car loan was paid in full by an anonymous donor, and that someone built us a new home on seven acres of wooded property within an hour’s drive of our grandkids. But that would be a lie.
Instead, I received a greater blessing. A corner of my heart was set free.
You see, I’ve always longed to obey the Lord, do whatever He told me, without question, without argument, regardless of how I felt. I’d prayed many times, “Lord, give me an obedient heart. Help me follow you. Teach me Your ways.”
But I had a chain around my soul. I worried what people thought of me. Especially people in our church. Because we were called to lead them, I secretly believed that what they thought of me was important.
I cared too much for their respect. And not enough for God’s applause. Now He was asking me to toss down my pride by giving Him a penny. One cent. It was worth at most, five cents to a coin dealer. Much more to Him who saw my secret motives.
At last, I relented. I let go of the wheat-back, and my worry. As the penny landed on the pile of bills, my fear landed at Jesus’ feet, replaced with surrender. A new joy burst into my heart: the joy of obedience.
If I ever become wealthy and the Lord asks me to give it all away, I trust I will obey without a blink. It’s only money, after all, not worth a cent compared to the offering of an obedient heart.
on behalf of Ginger. A familiar voice rang in my heart. Don’t simply pray for Ginger; call her and pray with her.
Ginger eagerly agreed. “Thank you so much, Jeanette. I’ve been on this feeding tube for five months. If my intestines could just heal enough to allow me to digest food, I think I could put up with all the other issues…”
I cut her off. “Oh no,” I cried. “God wants you to be well all over. Don’t settle for just one strong part, while the others suffer. Let’s pray for complete health.”
Little did I realize how God was guiding my words, and what complete health meant to Him.
Over the next few months, I called Ginger often, praying with her and encouraging her to read the New Testament accounts of Jesus healing all who came to Him (
). She readily accepted my prayers and encouragement. Although she’d attended church all her life and believed at an early age, no one had taught her how to develop a relationship with Jesus. Now a slate of maladies longer than a grocery list was challenging her faith. Could it stand up under the pressure?
Shortly after we began praying together, Ginger shared some exciting news. “A home health nurse has taken a special interest in my case. She’s researched for hours, trying to find out why every time the doctors wean me off this feeding tube, it doesn’t work. I’m so amazed at her concern for me!” Although gratefulness flooded my heart, I wasn’t surprised. I’d witnessed the Lord moving in people’s lives in answer to specific prayers dozens of times. But this kind of personal intervention from God was a novelty to Ginger, and it awed her. She was beginning to comprehend how precious the Lord considered her.
Two months from the time that angelic nurse started researching Ginger’s case and advising her on treatments, Ginger was free of the feeding tube and eating solid food. But God was filling up a greater emptiness than her desire to bite into a tender steak or munch a juicy apple. He was planting a hunger in her heart for a deeper walk with Him. God’s plans were grander than my biggest dreams.
Ginger joined a women’s Bible study, listened to bushels of sermon tapes, and attended the Sunday school class I taught. Our entire congregation watched in amazement as her faith grew sturdy, sending down roots into the soil of God’s healing, nourishing love.
I’ve celebrated eleven Christmases since that first call to Ginger. In spite of constant battles with doubt and fear, her faith has remained strong, and she’s been cancer-free for several years now.
When I’m tempted to wonder if my life has made a positive difference, I pull out a memory of Ginger’s daughter, who pulled me aside one day and said, “I want to thank you for helping my mom know the Lord in a deeper way. What you’ve taught her has helped her make it through this awful trial. She talks about Jesus all the time now.”
How could I take credit for that? A tender God coaxed me to the telephone at the perfect moment, to help one of His hungry lambs find her way to His table of healing and grace.
I weep in gratitude that God allowed me to partake in the bounty of Ginger’s feast.
NIV)." In this case, the sunshine and rain were in the form of a baby!
If God gave someone the desire of their heart when they didn't even ask Him, how much more would He give us who "approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need (
Hebrews 4:16
So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.
OPEN VERSE IN BIBLE (nlt)
, NIV)"?
Kind of makes you want to expect a lot more out of Him, doesn't it?
The list of ways to get behind a brother or sister is endless:
Are you struggling to make ends meet on a stingy budget? If I slip a ten in your pocket, I’m behind you.
Do you doubt if your marriage can last one more night, or one more fight? If I listen and pray for strength for you, I’m behind you.
Is your kid making choices that break your heart? If I hug you and say “Don’t give up,” I’m behind you.
Are you afraid of what the doctor might find on the next test? If I pray for your healing and tell you “I love you,” I’m behind you.
Do you wonder where your dream got lost? If I encourage you to keep hoping, I’m behind you.
Rebuking and finding fault rarely motivate anyone to succeed. Most of us avoid critical, sour individuals. But we enjoy the company of people who bring out the best in us, helping us believe in ourselves and our dreams. We achieve things we thought impossible by having one or two caring friends say, “I’m behind you.”
You can be that friend to someone today. Instead of turning your back on a need or mocking a dream, be wise enough to say, “I’m behind you. Let me help you succeed.”
For us fellow servers, it will make the difference between messes to clean up or miracles to celebrate.
