Disaster Offerings

"He received out of her disaster."

That was a line that I wrote while updating my last blog post. Tonight I was reading that blog because I needed some encouragement. I didn't finish reading; I got to that line and was immediately moved. 

The woman with the alabaster jar was a disaster; there's no way around it. I can't tell you how often I've used the "but I'm a disaster" excuse to not pour out on Jesus, thinking, "I'll come back when I'm more put together." But when does "more put together" really come? And do I honestly want to wait that long before I turn to Jesus? 

You see, she didn't care. Or she refused to care. Or she cared and she went anyway. Because she recognized that if she didn't go then, she never would and she would spend her whole life regretting that she didn't give Him everything. 

All too often we think that we have to measure up to some invisible, exacting standard before we have something to offer--such as those at the dinner party did, when they said, "Lord, do you know what kind of woman is touching you?" A lie that the enemy once used to debilitate me was that same one: "You can't touch Jesus, look what kind of person you've been." But that's simply a lie! Jesus wants us now. Exactly as we are. Disaster and all.

When she poured out that fragrant nard on Him, He was blessed. He received. When she washed His feet with her tears, He was moved. He was honored. When she wiped her tears with her hair, He was touched. He was glorified. You see, He received out of her disaster. The very fact that she was willing to come to Him as a disaster moved Him to the very core. And as everyone else shook their heads in disdain, He loved her. And He defended her. And He was blessed because of her.

So don't wait until you're "more put together" or you'll never come. I know I never would. Come as you are. Bring what you have. Offer yourself. That's all He asks for. And quite frankly, that's all I have to give.