Random thoughts cross my mind all the time. I think it is part of being an introvert. If I’m not going to talk to other people, I might as well talk to myself. (Am I right, Self?) Most of the time I just brush it off and go about my day like I’m not crazy, but this thought was different. I decided to stop ignoring and start listening.
Pay for someone’s laundry.
Nothing fancy, nothing life changing.
Nothing terrifyingly reckless for my introverted self to do, like speaking words out loud to a stranger. Nothing deeply sacrificial, except donating quarters of course. It was only twenty-five cents, but now that we lived in an apartment building with coin laundry, trying to find quarters was like trying to mine for diamonds in the parking lot.
While my mountain of laundry was in the dryer, I scribbled on an obnoxiously yellow sticky note, Dear Neighbor, Please enjoy a free load of laundry. I prayed for you this morning, and I hope you feel Christ’s love throughout your day. Simple. Encouraging. Not too creepy, I hoped.
Next, I needed quarters. After scrounging through the coin jar, my wallet, the car, and the couch, I found only five.
Well, that’s extremely lame, I thought. Five measly quarters? Enough to fill only one of two laundry machines and neither of the dryers. Why am I even bothering?
Give what you have.
The second whisper, and my first lesson. Then my adult temper tantrum. But Lord, I wanted to give enough for two laundry machines and one dryer. I wanted to give fourteen quarters, not five! And I wanted to be able to do it all by myself!
Give what you have.
Sometimes I think things like, If I can’t do it all by myself, then I’m not going to do it at all. I let either my pride or my insecurities get in the way of giving. But the reality is, I don’t have enough of anything to do it “all by myself.” I’m only expected to do my part, to give what I have, no shame or pride, no matter how humble or glamorous it is. God has equipped me with exactly what I need to accomplish His will. He can still do great things with whatever I am able to offer up in worship.
I think about that boy and his five loaves of bread and two fish (Matt. 14:13-21). What if he hadn’t brought them forward when Jesus had a hungry, megachurch congregation to feed? What if he had decided to be a little punk and say, “Well, that’s extremely lame! Five measly loaves and two scrawny fish? I wanted to be able to give more, to feed all five thousand! All by myself!” First, that’s just absurd. Second, the boy would have missed out on an opportunity to share in Christ’s miraculous demonstration of His power. It may have been a humble offering, but did that make the outcome any less effective, any less miraculous?
I can’t always give a lot, but that is no excuse to keep from giving. I can always give what I have, right now, in this moment, and trust God to provide the rest. My time, my money, and my talents. Some days it might be enough to buy two loads of laundry and feed five thousand; other days it might be less.
Give what you have.
~ By Kendra Broehuis. Excerpted from Here Goes Nothing: an introvert’s reckless attempt to love her neighbor by Kendra Broekhuis. Used with permission.
