GC Thanksgiving Day Message - Dismissed

D became angry when I told that story though he laughed sarcastically. “And we wonder why these guys are being investigated. They are driving around in Bentleys, flying planes and living opulently while people in their congregations are starving and being brow beaten into giving, giving, and giving.”

My eyes watered up, because the very reason why I left my former church was the very reason why I’d rejected helping that man, whose dark, sad eyes and weathered hands haunted me. I saw Jesus before me and I turned him away.

Who did I think I was to justify not meeting a need when I had the means? Who was I to turn him away?

I remembered every occasion that the Lord showed me mercy in the form of human beings who met a need of mine. I remembered people giving to me even when I didn’t know I had a need.

D got me again, he said, “You were probably the only one in the place where he saw light. He saw your light. Remember even the blind people saw the light of Jesus as he passed by. That man knew who you were.”

Who knew but God that I’d learn yet another lesson in giving, a new one that I’d never considered.

This was my pre-holiday test to see if I’d really become more like my Savior, especially in my giving and gratitude. You know gratitude will fuel and fund a multitude of activities; it really does. We give because we are grateful. We give because it’s right. We give because …

God gives and gave, gave and gave…

Truthfully, I’d love to write an inspirational, warm and fuzzy commentary to set off the Thanksgiving holiday, but I cannot. I’m not feeling particularly inspiring or warm and fuzzy. And I am especially not feeling righteous enough to tell you or anyone to give, give and give.

Nope, I’m about to make an appointment with the Lord to reevaluate my own values in Him, and let Him tell me some things about giving. I’m going to let Him talk to me about giving out of gratitude. And I’m going to pray for mercy and grace, because I honestly don’t want someone to look up and see my weathered, black hand reaching out to them and reject me too.