“I tell you the truth,” he said, “this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.”
OUT OF MY poverty . . .
This is where I begin, where I lay down my pen as an offering before the Lord. It would be easier to walk away from my story, to keep my words to myself—words buried deep within, words not yet realized, words trapped beneath the weightiness of my recent cancer season. With the dig will come discovery, of this I am certain. The revelation may not be what you’re looking for, and because of this, my heart grows weary and faint with the wondering.
Will they be enough, Lord? Are these words worth fighting for? Is there ample ink left in my well—enough words and enough willingness—to write this chapter of my story? Will this surrender be costly? Will the end result reflect the fight required to get there? Will joy replace current sorrow? Will fullness replace this emptiness I’m holding? Will hope supplant doubt? Will kingdom work be done through weakness?
Indeed, out of my poverty, I come to the altar of God’s grace. Like the widow in Luke 21, there’s not much left in my personal coffers, or so it seems. Two small coppers are what remain after a long season of costly suffering. Cancer has brought me to the end of a treacherous, winding road, only to realize that another one awaits me—the road of survival. Two coppers won’t get me very far, but my releasing them to God? Well, perhaps they’ll carry me further than what my understanding will allow me in this moment.
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Cancer has brought me to the end of a treacherous road, only to realize that another one awaits me—the road of survival. #BeyondTheScars
Trusting God is that one and only choice, and today, I’m making the decision to do my banking with the King. I cast my two coppers into the treasury and begin with a few words about a fledgling faith and the suffering season that has recently served as the backdrop of my life. And while it seems too little of a thing, it also seems like a good place to start. For whenever a heart is depleted and emptied out, there’s room enough for a fresh planting of God.
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