Last Tuesday night, I sat in church; alone, because my mother was helping with the babies in the nursery, and my father was at work. Silence enclosed the audience. No one fidgeted, hardly an eye wandered from the speaker. Towards the end of the sermon, the offering began, and I immediately tried to remember if I had any money with me, as I rarely carry cash. I remembered that I had some.
As the offering plate wandered closer to our pew, I frantically dug through my bag to find them (if you know me, you know that I carry enough things in my bag to lay siege to a small city, and that it’s heavy enough to be used as a weapon). Locating all of them, I was surprised to look up and see that the man carrying the plate was still four pews away.
Suddenly feeling possessive, my hand stilled as I looked down at the money, thinking, This is a lot. Suppressing a small twinge of guilt, I found myself shoving the money into the side pocket of my bag. The plate stopped at my pew, its carrier wearing an inquiring expression. I gently shook my head, and he smiled and went to the pew behind me.
The guilt I had felt earlier returned, pounding within my mind. I looked down, ashamed, thinking, What on earth!? My Lord suffered pain I cannot begin to comprehend, bled, and gave His life for my small, unimportant self, and I won’t even give Him money? For the remainder of the sermon, I sat, nearly crying, mortified of how selfish I had been. As we prayed, I knelt, the words ‘I’m sorry,’ echoing endlessly within my mind. How often are we so engrossed in what we have, that we fail to give the Lord what is His?
Colossians 3:2 Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth.