I had the priviledge of meeting a couple of heros yesterday. Jenn and Chris A., from a town not so far from me, are doing the impossible. They’re rescuing a life.
I have thought recently of how costly it is to save a life. And how so many people who COULD do something, aren’t. I don’t hold that against anyone who doesn’t claim Christ, but I do hold it against those who do claim Him.
Anyone who knows me, knows I have spent the last 4 years dunging out my house. Loads and loads of stuff has gone and I’ve done pretty well at not bring stuff back in. And, if you know me at all, you know that Reece’s Rainbow is a huge, huge deal to me. And, if you REALLY know me, you know my finances are beyond crap. And I can’t adopt. I can pray and I can try to help raise funds. So, I’ve been boxing up junk in hopes of holding a garbage sale to raise money for an adopting family. But I just can’t get it together.
My sweet friend, Tamara, mentioned Jenn and Chris who are near to me. Jenn is having a sale this weekend and yes, she’d love to take my stuff. I confess that I really started to get paranoid that all that stuff really and truly was just JUNK and should be in the burn pile, rather than the garbage sale pile. And it really hit me, that all I have to offer truly IS filthy rags. And that our Lord can take those dirty, stinky and probably moldy items and make something beautiful. Like a rescue.
But I was just on my figurative face before God, sobbing that I have nothing, NOTHING to offer these people, this little girl Olga who is waiting for a family, this God of mine. Nothing to offer. Just this huge pile of junky rubble. And I am so incredibly inadequate. I almost backed out of giving my stuff I was so ashamed of it and of myself. But I decided to go ahead and offer my filth to the Lord in the hope that He’d be faithful and bring about the beauty needed to bring this little girl home.
I don’t know how much of a blessing it will be, but it is not in my hands. I have to follow His leading. But oh, my friends, I am so incredibly convicted about the filth of my own righteousness. How easy it is to be sure of doing the “right thing” and righteous about how *I* am doing what I can, how come YOU aren’t. And then, I remember: my part is just filthy, filthy rags. God have mercy on my soul.