He traced his fingers over the labels one by one as he scanned the containers on the shelf. His thoughts were interrupted when the door cracked open and he heard, “Dad? You in here?”
“Yes, son. Come in,” he smiled as turned his attention to the visitor at the door.
It closed softly, and the father turned back to the shelves. His son’s eyes followed as he asked, “What are you doing?”
“I’m creating today, son. Would you like to see?”
His head eagerly nodding, the son walked to the workbench to get a closer look. Jars were scattered across the surface of the table, their precious contents carefully sealed inside. Encouragement, Giving, and Teaching were beautifully written on the labels.
“Ah, here we go. Serving…” he said, taking it down. “That’s what I was looking for. She will have a servant’s heart.”
“What’s so special about that?” the son inquired.
“Oh, this one is very special. They are all important, but serving will be her greatest gift. When she uses her gift of service to prepare a meal at church, she is helping to nourish the bodies of the teachers and the evangelists, so that they may be effective with their gifts. When she packs boxes for a charity clothing drive, she is enabling the gifts of the givers to reach those in need. When she calls those on her prayer list, she will facilitate the sending of the prayers that will rise to my ears, to be answered. She will feel very unimportant as she works behind the scenes, but her work will impact so many.
She is so vital, but will feel anything but. So, I am creating this one over here with the gift of encouragement, to cheer her friend on when she feels like giving up. Each and every gift I give them is important, and they are equally valued.”
As I woke up, I could feel the dampness on my pillow that my tears left behind from crying myself to sleep. But now, I felt different. Lighter. I smiled.
The night before, I had lamented over my uselessness as I lay in bed. “Why bother? What purpose do I serve? I just mash potatoes and pack boxes. Anybody can do that,” I remembered thinking. “No one notices what I do.”
“But God does!” I joyfully told myself this morning. He used a dream to lovingly show me the care he took when he created me. He purposely and personally chose what gifts I would and would not have. He made me specifically to mash potatoes and pack boxes, so the teachers will have time to teach and the evangelists can be free to spread the Good News. My work enables others to use their gifts.
I am important. I have the gift of service…
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