Morning and evening, every single day, it is the same thing. We gather our children for family worship.
Bodies, big and small, fill every soft surface in our living room. The small ones set aside their wiggles for a few minutes because they have been trained to. We have their attention and the time is right.
And yet, what follows feels powerless. I often leave feeling let down, like once again we’re walking away empty. There has to be a better way, I think to myself. We must be doing something wrong. And maybe we are.
I’m sure there’s better, more refined ways to feed our children from the banqueting table of Scripture. I’m sure there are methods to help the message translate more effectively to the broad range of ages and stages of the hearts gathered around us.
And yet, in all the potentially “wrong” ways we’re doing things, one thing is perfectly right.
We are continually bringing them before the Father.
And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear.
The offering we bring may be humble, unskilled, and at times even appear disjointed. But because we bring it with earnest, sincere hearts He accepts it. And that is where the real work begins. Where the real change starts to happen.
Because, dear friends, we are so very like that desperate woman who raked herself through the crowd centuries ago just so she might brush the hem of His garment. There was nothing powerful in the act of grabbing His robe. The power was in the willingness to set aside her to-do list so she could chase down her Savior.
The power was in her complete trust that He would do for her what she could not do for herself.
This morning as I gather my children my offering will again be insufficient. I will still stumble over my words, feel my inadequacy, wonder if it’s enough. And I may even leave from those sacred moments thinking there was no power in them.
But then He will remind me, in countless beautiful ways throughout my day that it isn’t at all about feeling good enough. It’s about knowing He accepts me anyway.
If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.
I promise you, as He keeps promising me, that time spent in His presence never comes back void. Never. No matter how much our fallen foe wishes us to think it might.
Because so long as we keep grasping at his hem, He will see us. Even in the crowd of life. He will see us, and just as with that woman on that long ago day, power will go forth from Him and we will find healing.
Because it is enough. He is enough so we don’t have to be.