I have the opportunity to participate in an event that walks ladies through the book of Esther in a tangible way. I’m familiar with her story and have read a lot about her, but little compares to walking in a church and having the sanctuary transformed into a palace. One week focused on her preparation treatments, and this week was about approaching the throne room to see the king.
When it was my turn to enter the throne room, I had a scroll with many things written down that I wanted to give as a gift to the King. Esther found favor with the king’s eunuch because she asked what gift would the king like, instead of choosing something valuable for her own needs. My scroll was full of things I wanted my King to have that were a sacrifice, but out of love, I wanted to give.
I reached the area and the tears were starting. What I wrote wasn’t pretty. I wasn’t giving up the rainbows of my life or fun presents. It was the core of my heart and layers of wounds I wanted to surrender to Him. Thing is, when I went to the basin to drop the scroll, I wasn’t paying attention and I nearly dropped my tissue in the basin instead of my gift.
I corrected it, but instantly I felt the nudge of the Holy Spirit.
He let me know I was right the first time. That for me to give my tears is worth millions to Jesus because He knows how hard for me tears are. I’m often strong for others and give until there is nothing left. He let me know I’m worthy—even enough to cry and to be ministered to. My tears were precious to Him.
Years ago I chatted with a mom who felt she lacked in giving to the Lord because she was a mom with young ones. She said she prayed during diaper changes and laundry but having hours to sprawl out with devotions? It wasn’t happening. I told her that the way I see it, she is like the widow who gave a coin. Her gift was special because she gave all she had, and her heart was pure.
I believe it was a fundraiser for Hurricane Katrina relief when my mom called for a chat and asked if I saw the celebrity power couple donate $1 million. I admitted I had, but I wasn’t impressed. They were millionaires many, many, MANY times over and one million is nothing to them. I felt if they truly wanted to make a difference, they should have given until it hurt. That was a gift to me, giving to the point that it is a sacrifice.
Do I have a point here? Not an organized one, but I guess an encouragement. If you mean to give something to the Lord but feel it’s not worth anything and why would He want it—don’t be so sure. He took my snotty tissue and let me know to Him, it was worth more than a million.