A Widow’s Mite

I wanted to pass along a short, but powerful story that my sister, Sandi, experienced firsthand this week:

On Wednesday night, my sister and others from her church were volunteering at Solomon Center, a food pantry in the Cincinnati area. They have been running very low on supplies lately, as the need has increased twofold and they’ve not been able to financially to double their supplies. As a result, they had a list of items that they were out of posted on white board.

A guest using a walker to get around came down to receive services. While there, he must have scanned the white board and seen that the food pantry was out of shampoo. After he received his order, he slowly ascended up the stairs, visibly struggling with his walker on each step. Once outside the Center, he walked in the pouring, driving rain to his car that was parked on the other end of the lot. Pushing his walker aside, he climbed into his car and got a plastic cup filled with—of all things—shampoos from a hotel. The old man then got back out of the car, walked all the across the parking lot with his walker, down the stairway, and—now thoroughly soaked to the bone—gave the gift to Sandi and her crew to help people who needed shampoo. Without fanfare, he then walked back up the stairs and back to his car to go home.

The volunteers at the Center were all humbled and overwhelmed by his generosity. Just like the widow who gave the mite in Jesus’ parable, this man gave out of his poverty. How many of us do the same?

Navigating Greatness

What makes a person great? Is it the number of championship rings he wears on his hand? How fast she rises in her career? The amount of money in one’s bank account? In this media-crazed, post-modern culture of ours, greatness is increasingly defined by the superficial, temporal, and the trivial. Yet, as disciples of the only One who is truly great, is there some other standard by which we can measure greatness?

Since God created man in His image, one way to tackle this question is to look at God’s greatness and see what principles trickle down to man. There are limitations to this approach, of course, since He is omnipotent, omniscient, and infinite, and the last time I checked, I was not any of those. Nonetheless, I’ve found that there are some intriguing parallels to consider.

In all of God’s dealings with the world, arguably the two most significant acts He has ever done is to (a) create the world and (b) serve the world by becoming a man in the person of Jesus Christ and dying on the cross for our sins. If these are the two climatic activities of God in His relationship with man, isn’t it possible that these acts also serve as models for us? Perhaps you and I can share greatness when we create and serve in His name. (Or, as J.R.R. Tolkien used to say, a more theologically correct term for human creation is “sub-create” since God is the only one who truly creates ex nihilo, from nothing.

This fact was brought home to me while watching the A&E/BBC movie Longitude , the story of John Harrison, an 18th century English clockmaker who discovered the solution to the age-old “longitude problem”— determining a ship’s longitudinal position while at sea. I loved the film, but what has remained with me since was a statement at the film’s end reflecting on Harrison’s accomplishment:

What makes a man great? A man may be great in his aims, or in his achievements, or in both, but I think that man is truly great who makes the world his debtor… who does something for the world which the world needs and which nobody before him has done or known how to do.

Just as Harrison “made the world his debtor” by inventing a special timepiece that solved the longitude problem, so you can do the same when your creative efforts or servant heart fills a void left empty before you came along. For in the end, perhaps living a life of true significance is achieved only when you create or serve in Jesus’ name.

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The Finish Line Obsession

Several years ago, I rode my bicycle cross country, traversing 3,400 miles in about a month. Symbolically beginning the journey, I dipped my rear tire into the Pacific Ocean and then straddled my bike and started pedaling eastward. Riding 10-12 hours each day over the next four weeks, I had but a single, all-consuming goal: to dunk my front tire in the Atlantic Ocean to complete the crossing.

Purpose-Driven Creatures

When I look back today on that bicycle trek, I don’t much think of that finish line anymore. Yes, I appreciate actually making it all the way across, but what I truly relish are the experiences, many of which were difficult, that I had on route. I recall that dreadful first night in the California desert thinking I’d never survive another day; the 12-hour straight, high altitude climb up the Colorado Rockies; and the ride across the Kansas plains in a 40-mph crosswind, in which I struggled just to stay upright on my bike. At the time, I didn’t savor these events much, given my preoccupation with the finish line. But, paradoxically, these hard times are the memories which linger in my mind as the years go by. For it was in these tough moments that I was stretched, pulled, and tugged – ultimately growing as I persevered through them.

I think our Christian walk is much the same way. We are purpose-driven creatures living in a goal-focused society. We are consumed, even obsessed by finish lines. Yet, as I study the Scriptures, I am learning to realize that God does not give much importance to end goals like we do. Yes, God is concerned about our aspirations, but I suspect He is far more interested in the growth that occurs in our lives in pursuit of these ends compared to the actual goals themselves.

Pitfalls of Finish Lines

In reading Paul’s epistles, it is clear that the overarching ambition of a disciple should be to become more like Christ today than we were yesterday. However, in real life, we allow ourselves to become preoccupied with far more practical, down-to-earth finish lines. These can be grouped into two categories.

• Unfulfilled desire is one kind of finish line. Examples of this include a better job, a larger home, an early retirement, or savings for college. While striving for these goals is not bad, the pitfall with this type of finish line is that it often becomes a distraction to our walk with Christ. We become preoccupied with that “future something” rather than being content with the present. But in so doing, we end up doing exactly what I did on my bike trip: ignoring the opportunities God was providing along the way in my quest for an end thousands of miles away.

• Resolution of uncertainty is a second type of finish line. When we face a major decision, significant life change, or insecurity, our natural tendency is to simply want the ambiguity to be over and done with, so we can get on with our lives. The pitfall in this case is that resolution becomes the security for us rather than trusting in God in the midst of the process.

In our walk with Christ, we need to stop thinking of the time before the finish as an ordeal to withstand while we await the outcome. Instead, the pursuit needs to be seen for what it actually is: God’s gift to us as believers. For it is in precisely these times that we choose whether we are to become more like Christ or more like the world; whether we will find more of our security in the Lord or in our own crafted solutions; or whether we will choose contentment today or hold out for a prize at a later time.

Learning To Embrace The Race

In my quest for making a living as a full-time Christian author, I have faced 4.5 years of uncertainties and constant challenges to provide for my family. I find myself naturally yearning for all of the questions I have to be answered. I constantly need to remind myself of four practical steps that all disciples should take to “embrace the race.”

First, recognize the growth opportunity. Whether I am faced with a big decision or are focused towards a long-term goal, I first need to discern the Lord’s hand in my situation and realize it as an opportunity to grow in Christ.

Second, trust Him. It sounds simple, but trust is surely the biggest obstacle to getting rid of this finish line obsession. If I earnestly believe God is leading me along towards the finish line, insecurity and uncertainty will be removed. Oswald Chambers offered a great outlook on trust when asked about how he was dealing with an unsure situation in his life:

I do not know [what the outcome will be]. However, He knows and I know He knows, and I know that I’ll never think of anything He will forget, so I just go steadily on as I have always done, and He will engineer the circumstances.

As Chambers says, we have a God that engineers circumstances. But until I fully believe that promise and live it out in faith, I will never be able to take my eyes off of the finish line. Without this level of trust, I will inevitably feel compelled to manufacture the result rather than relying on God to do so.

Third, get perspective. Uncertainty and goal quests have a tendency to become all encompassing, causing me to lose perspective. Yet, in the midst of the race, I need to step back and look at the situation in light of eternity. When I get to heaven, I don’t suspect that I will dwell too much on my earthly finish lines. Instead, I think I will be relishing the journey I made towards those ends, for that was when I grew the most in my relationship with Christ.

Fourth, commit to the only finish line of importance. I need to get focused on my true aim in life as a disciple – throwing out, one cell at a time, my sin nature for a Godly nature; this commitment should also transform my prayer life. So, when I pray, I need to pray not just for the outcome, but for the race as well. Praying for contentment and trust on route regardless of the outcome is a true litmus test of where a disciple’s heart is. If all I really long for is the finish line, then perhaps I am really using God purely as a means to that end. But if I properly balance the end goal with my pursuit of it, then I can fully experience the growth God intends for me in the midst of this race.