The Madness of Hope

My Egg

Joining a mega church was hard. Having always attended smaller churches, there was never enough I could do. With so many opportunities to use my gifts and abilities for God, my biggest challenge was knowing when and how to say no. Although I don’t have any talent I would say is exceptional, I do have a lot of gifts in many areas and have used all of those in some form of another. It is kind of like being a mom. You play cook, nurse, maid, driver, encourager, and often even the bad guy!

Upon coming to a mega church I see so much talent and ability around me. Some truly exceptional gifts! There are paid staff members that do most of what I have spent my life doing. So, where does that leave me? Because my life has always revolved around ministry, this has been a huge struggle for me the last one and a half year. To the point that, at times, I wonder if God even needs me.

The other day God brought to mind a childhood experience. We were attending a church service in a rural village in Zambia, or, as we would say, a bush church. In those days women and men sat on separate sides of the church. Even if the church met under a tree, there was an imaginary dividing line down the middle. During offering and communion, each individual would come forward to the homemade table at the front and either take communion, or leave their offering to God. In this setting, everyone knew who left an offering and who did not.

On this particular Sunday, as we sang, one by one people came forward and dropped 5 ngwee, 20 ngwee and sometimes a kwatcha into the offering basket. One lady came forward, humbly knelt at the table, and put an egg into the basket. We watched, wondering what in the world God could want with an egg. But it was all this lady had.

At the end of the offering, the leader of the church began to auction off the egg. It probably went for more than one would normally buy an egg!

In reality, I don’t know if I actually remember this experience or if I just remember my dad telling the story. Such is the nature of childhood memories. But the lesson is as real to me as any adult memory in my life. She gave what she could, God honored it and used that gift for his ministry.

So I am brought back to my gifts and abilities. I’m bringing God an egg, in a church full of Easter baskets. But it is an egg and it is what I have to offer. How he uses it is his choice. I will just be obedient in bringing to him what I have.