“We have been putting a little money away these past few months. And we have been asking God what to do with it. We would like to give it to you if you will accept it.” Their faces were beaming with love. Both of them were so joyful to be giving in obedience to God. A thousand things went through my head, Of course I’ll take it, there is so desperate a need. Instead, the words that came out revealed much more of my chaotic and now broken state of mind.
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” On the brink of tears, I couldn’t believe the faithfulness of God.
One week ago on a return trip from Louisville, in the voice of Frances Chan, God asked me to begin helping others through the use of time and money. I had four hours to argue with him and four hours to make up one excuse after another. First off, I don’t have time. I’m so busy giving to the church, how could I give any more? I don’t have money. Every penny I have is being spent on things I need. I barely buy groceries because I can’t afford them. Every now and then I buy something to make my life a little more comfortable, but it’s rare. You can’t fault me for getting a little something I deserve after a hard month of work.
God could have challenged me. I was, after all, fighting defiantly against his will, against the almighty God, creator of the universe. He could have said, “What you deserve? Who are you that you contend with me!” But he didn’t. It was my own mind that shouted those words into my ear. Yet, God interrupted my thoughts gently and put his hand on my shoulder. His smile broke my excuses in half. In that instance, it wasn’t about who deserved what, or what needs I had, but rather about a father who wanted the very best for me and loved his son. “Travis, I will take care of you. Like I always have.”
I’m not a risk taker; I hate risks. I hate them because I hate uncertainty. If we’re being honest, those words, risk and uncertainty, are just synonyms. I want to be in control and know everything in advance. I don’t like not being able to see the road ahead.
“Do you trust me?”
Of course I trusted him! My entire life is centered on obedience to him. If anyone looked at me and was asked if I trusted in him, they would say yes. Outwardly, I am the picture of what Christians should look like.
“But do you trust me?”
Yes. I gave up secular college and a career to serve him. I gave up countless things that I wanted.
“Do you trust me?”
“God, why do you keep asking this question? I trust you!”
“Then feed my children.”
I slumped back into the seat, defeated and overwhelmed by those words so familiar to me. “Dad… I’m scared. What you’re asking is so costly and I have nothing left to give.”
His hand was still on my shoulder and his gaze unbroken, “I won’t abandon you in my calling.”
For the remainder of the trip I worked out logistics. I’m a logical person and I like numbers. I like to the know, to the penny, the minimum I would have to give to appease my father. God knew this, so he gave me a very different direction. “Don’t give in dollars. Give to meet needs.” This way, my giving couldn’t be about about meeting requirements, but rather about what he really always wanted. Love. I could no longer argue with that.
I won’t go into detail, but God gave me a way, using my natural gifts and talents, to give back to him and to meet others’ needs. It’s something I find great joy in and am skilled in. It’s crazy how God seems to have molded me for just such a thing. And to think, I never would have found it without the four hour argument.
Fast forward a week to my first action. I sat waiting for the moment. I asked God, if this is not perfect, then pull me back. He did not. It was done. I looked at my financial situation with concern and said aloud, “I’ll be okay; it will just be tight for a while.” But deep inside my mind, I was panicking. I was in way over my head.
Less than five hours later, they sat opposite me, slid the check across the table, and uttered the words that knocked the wind out of me. “…if you’ll accept it.” Five hours. That’s it! And it paid nearly all of it back! I wanted to weep.
As I began the drive home, I couldn’t help but ask God, “Who am I, that you would be mindful of me?”
“You are my son, in whom I am well pleased.”
“But God, I am so unfaithful, a man of unbelief.”
“And though you are faithless, I remain faithful.”
You see, I didn’t believe God would help me. This sacrifice that he had called me to was mine alone to bear. I still, even after the fact, barely believe it actually happened. I think I’m beginning to understand why Christ said so often to all the men throughout Scripture, “Oh, you of little faith.”