Tiny offerings~

I was handed a paper that had a number of colourful scratches on it.  A proud little boy was so excited to give me this picture that he had drawn.  I couldn't tell what it was, but it was beautiful, because he had worked hard, taking effort with each stroke of the crayon.  He had thought of me with each colour.  He handed me the picture and said this is for you mama.  My heart melted...  I loved it, but it didn't make me love him more.  Nothing he had done caused me to love him.  He was my child and that in itself was enough...

Sometimes I feel like that child, handing off my papers, my scribbles to the Lord...  I feel so proud of them but when I look closer they look like childish scribbles on pieces of paper.  There is no room for pride.  There is no room to believe there is anything that I could do, or say or create, or think that would make him love me.  I need only be His child, I need only be obedient and follow Him.  He made the way possible and because of that and only that am I able to call myself His.

Tiny offerings is all I have, but I know that its not because of my tiny offerings that I am accepted and loved. It is His great mercy and grace and that alone.

Some muddled thoughts from my mushy brain,
Jeannie~