The Privilege of Love

Mark 1:16-18 Read it. 

I was born into a world of big dreams (even in ministry) and I have loved them, have written poetry about them, breathed onto them before I shined them and set them up on the glass étagère for the neighbors to see when they came over.  Like Gollum, the Hobbit’s consumed villain, I have petted them and have not let them go even when I stopped eating life. 

When had I become consumed with the bread or even more twisted yet, the feeding of that bread instead of the Bread of Life Himself?  More importantly, what business was it of mine?  Why did I hold onto responsibility of how my gifts, my dreams were used or laid aside?  Answer: Because I was allowing them to define me instead of my being Consumed with the Giver alone.  This quote is Watchman Nee:

“The breaking of the alabaster box and the anointing of the Lord filled the house with the odor, with the sweetest odor.  Everyone could smell it.  Whenever you meet someone who has really suffered; been limited, gone through things for the Lord, willing to be imprisoned by the Lord, just being satisfied with Him and nothing else.  Immediately you scent the fragrance.  There is a savor of the Lord.  Something has been crushed, something has been broken, and there is a resulting odor. Of sweetness.” 

Yes. I want to be satisfied with Him and nothing else.

Not only have these gifts (spiritual gifts, natural talents) defined me, but erroneously, I have believed that somehow You have need of them, all those sermons of being the hands and feet of Jesus have built a new Babel, a tower of pride.  But, You own the cattle on a thousand hills and even the rocks can praise You and oh yes, You can even form man out of clay.  You have no need of me and yet I hear Your beckoning invitation, “Come, Summer, Follow Me and I will teach you how to fish for people!” 

You gift me with the privilege of service, show me how to get down on the cold floor, pour the pitcher, feel the water’s warmth, lovingly place the feet in the bowl.  Pure privilege! Without love, all my gifts are empty, but with love, service has Spirit-flowing power.  You are the One who honors me with the privilege of pulling kleenex out of my purse, wiping tears from the brokenhearted in the middle of the bread aisle at WalMart.  Your Spirit fills and I receive the gift of mothering redemption into the lonely one at the health club who hides her abandoned heart between bent shoulders.  Then, I gift-wrap grace to Shelley across the street.  She lives with three big dogs protecting her, unsure if You are safe, but opens her door to eat my Autumn Chowder.  Every year she opens vulnerable, bakes a birthday cake for her stillborn baby girl and lets me eat a piece, share in her suffering. 

Privilege.

Love is not thrown out like a net on the masses but spoonfed to the vulnerable, one at a time. 

by Summer Gross

I daily need to ask for love, beg for love, for my children, my town, those God gives.  You know a secret?  He is always faithful.  I learned recently, I cannot conjure it up, I need His love to gulp large droughts and then pour out into the world.  Who do you need to ask God to give you a big love for?

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