Last weekend, I heard a story. It is one that lingered and whispered to me through my days as I carted kids to school, created fresh tracks in powder, worked to vanquish the muffin top on the elliptical, considered our future plans.
It is one of those stories that reminded me of what I'd forgotten.
A widow made a call to her pastor—
Pastor, I need ten thousand dollars to buy rice to feed a colony of lepers who aren't being fed. Ten thousand will feed them for a year.
But, I don't have ten thousand dollars.
I don't want YOU to give me ten thousand dollars. I want you to pray with me.
HE PRAYED. The next day she called back.
Pastor, I got my ten thousand dollars.
Wow, how did you do that?
I sold my house.
The pastor was concerned. This woman was a widow. She couldn't afford to sell her house and give the money away. But, she believed God would provide. She wasn't worried about herself. She was excited to be able to feed these abandoned people. To show them that God had not forgotten them. The next day, the widow called again.
Pastor, you won't believe it.
My daughter called last night and I was scared to tell her I'd sold my house. Before I could tell her, she said that she and her husband are coming next weekend to visit and to buy me a house. They are coming to buy me a house. They need to invest money.
This story stayed with me because of this woman's agenda. It wasn't her own. And she wasn't motivated by fear.
It stayed with me because I forget how BIG God is, how he wants to provide.
It stayed with me because I realized how small I've been making him. How I've been striving, trying to problem solve, to get things done.
He is so much bigger, so much more extravagant than I allow myself to believe.
It stayed with me because I was so filled with joy to realize something I already knew.