God has a sense of humour. On Sunday Audrey Cunningham published a guest post that I wrote, Red Car. In it I admitted that I battled to regard my time and money as actually belonging to God, not me.
My husband and I belong to the Gideons. They are the people who place bibles in hotel rooms, doctors waiting rooms, schools, prisons and a couple of other highways and byways. Last night was our monthly dinner meeting. The whole theme of the meeting and the main business was the upcoming Faith Fund lunch. Our target is R90 000. The money is used to buy bibles for people beyond our borders who can’t afford bibles. It was suggested that we invite people with a heart for mission to buy a box of 100. If each of the ten members got five donors, we would have R75 000. If we then each bought a box of 100 ourselves, that would make the goal.
I was getting more and more uncomfortable. My husband and I are not typical Gideons who are usually successful business and professional people. He retired from the bank a couple of years ago and is now a pensioner. I work as a laboratory assistant at a school where I earn about half of what a teacher does. I thought this was a really unfair demand to put on us all.
I caught myself. Here I had just blogged about everything I have belonging to God and already I was complaining.
Overnight the decision was made. Next month I get a birthday bonus. Although the amount required is more than the 10% traditional tithe, I will regard it as such and buy the box. I am sure the Lord is smiling, if not laughing. I backed myself into that corner. As always, His timing is impeccable.
This morning my husband was running a little late in getting ready to take the older two grandchildren to school (or his watch was not synchronised correctly.) We had a four year old and his little one and a half year old sister walking down the garden path to our front door yelling at the top of their voices “Grampa, its time to go!” and “Bumpa, Bumpa” respectively. I had been just about to start my quiet time but what with all the walking up and down the garden path and interacting with the three grandchildren, I only had five minutes left. However, I said to myself, “It’s God’s time anyway and he knows all about the interruptions.” Maybe I am learning slowly.