By Darlene Melcher

Lately I have had to come to terms with the disturbing fact that sometimes my best just simply isn’t enough. I have every good intention, but I can’t foresee the obstacles that prevent me from leaving on time. Or, I had a kind intention that got lost in the folds of my gray matter only to resurface when the opportunity had past. Or, I just try and give and put it all on the line of pouring out and it just isn’t enough, or on time, it falls flat or falls on the floor. I’m not talking about those days when I spend too much time on Facebook, or when I pushed a thought out of my mind because I was simply being lazy. I feel as though I reach down into the deepest fold of myself and pull out only two copper coins.

I think of the widow mentioned in Mark chapter 12. Her old tattered clothes covering her old tired body, as she quietly slips up to give her offering. Maybe she hopes no one sees her, but she can hear the snickers. Maybe she has eyes so full of love for God that she barely notices the scoffers. How easy it would have been for her to justify not giving her last two coppers. But she wanted to bless and in return she received a blessing. Words of affirmation from the Prince of Peace.

littlegiftMaybe the crowd is pressing in on me and I look into my little basket of self and realize I have barely enough for me. I think of the little lad mentioned in John chapter 6. Maybe his mother sent him with provisions for the disciples. Five loaves and two fish, it would have barely been enough for Jesus and the twelve to eat. I wonder if the little boy hesitated, because his little meal was never meant to feed a multitude. But that is what is wonderful about children: they give with joy and often with abandon. They aren’t self-conscience even if they are giving a scribbled pictured or a bit of string.

So why do I feel so deflated and even frantic when I realize that what I have isn’t really enough? Maybe I’m trying to be too self-sufficient. Maybe I have forgotten that the God of this universe needs only His powerful words to create and bring things into existence. I am meant to live and move and breathe in Him and with Him. I’m not meant to be the god of my own universe.

What I have, it’s not enough

But it feels like security

Just enough, barely enough for me.

Yet my heart burns

My hands yearn

A fire in me to give.

But voices cry out

Some start to shout

that it might be too good to believe.

What I have is too small

to meet the need

And then I’ll have nothing

left for me.

Surely someone in this multitude

brought better food

than me

And yet I hear my small voice ring out

a tiny nervous shout,

“Take mine.”

My heart beats wild,

I’m just a child

Surely You’ll start laughing at me.

Then something unexpected,

I’m not rejected.

You smile and receive what I give

Then You do something I’ll never forget

as long as I live

You look toward heaven

You give thanks and then

You begin to break:

You’re breaking my mind

You’re breaking the rules

And You’re breaking the walls all down

You’re break the fish

You’re breaking the loaves

And You just keep on passing around

You didn’t make me to fill all the holes

or master playing all the roles

But to live with an open hand

And I try to understand