Thursday, January 7, 2016

The Right Thing at the Right Time (Why Your Gifts Matter)

I have a friend who is incredibly gifted in an area I plain stink at. 

My friend Amber has the gift of food. Yes, food. 



She has gifted the women in our community with more meals delivered to their doorstep than I can count. After my last baby was born, she delivered twenty-four meals to our home in a span of six months. What? Twenty-four. 

Each time she pulled into our driveway, I stood near tears (and sometimes tears), with so much gratitude for her selflessness, her time, and her sacrifice. 

Our home was filled with its own special brand of crazy as we followed the Lord into the births of five biological kids and three adoptions. I would be misleading you if I let on that it merely was crazy, because it just IS crazy — like all of the time. On some days during this season, the enormity of my role as a mom of a big adoptive family threatened to eat me alive. 

Enter Amber. Without knowing the current status of my sanity, she would call to see if she and her kids could stop by for a little bit the next day and bring lunch for us all to eat, dinner for the family that evening, and three meals for the freezer. She would never say she’s gifted or special in any way. She just does what comes naturally to her. She goes about it quietly, never touting her kindness for the world to see. She loves deeply in the best way she knows how. With food.

Any woman recovering from surgery, sickness, or the birth of a child, knows how hard it is to prepare food for ourselves. I have never been so touched by the selfless kindness of a friend as I have with this friend’s offering to our family. She was Jesus with a casserole and a bag of rolls. 

God used Amber to teach me to love even when it looks small, because we never know when our obedience in serving will be just the right thing at just the right time for a person in need. 

This challenges me to give and serve with my whole heart in the area of my gifting. 

Why do we always view our offerings as “nothing much,” when they most certainly are not? What seemed to Amber like a big bag of nothingness delivered to my doorstep, was actually a rescue line dropped right into the pit of my despair at the exact moment of my need. 

To this day, the kids still rave about Miss Amber’s enchiladas. And sometimes she drops off a panful just because she knows it. 
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