It’s amazing when we experience scripture in a tangible, observable way. Like a modern-day parable, seeing someone live out scripture makes God’s Word come alive. I saw scripture come to life in a 5-year-old girl. I only met her once, only caught her first name.
She was petite and adorable. Her eyebrows were slathered in sparkly pink makeup, the kind a child applies to look like their favorite princess or fairy or mermaid. She wore a pink cotton dress and had shy, kind eyes. She lived in the middle of Atlanta in an apartment complex in such disrepair it looked like it might soon be condemned. I met her when Eli and I served a BBQ lunch at her complex with M25 Barbecue, alongside the Atlanta Dream Center Church. It was a hot Saturday. She quietly approached the table for a BBQ sandwich plate and my eyes followed her as she took the meal and turned away, balancing the paper plate in her hands. She reminded me so much of my own daughter.
When lunch was over we walked around the buildings with one of the pastors from the church. As we talked, the same little girl with the pink makeup approached us. She held a little paper lunch bag. She didn’t say a word, but reached into the bag and pulled out a piece of candy and placed it in my hand. The paper bag looked empty. My heart melted.
“You are so sweet,” I told her. “You don’t have to do that.” She smiled. I started to give the candy back, but I wanted her to know how much it meant to me. I smiled and said thank you one more time and placed it in my pocket.
When we got in the car to drive home, I pulled out the little candy and set it on the dashboard.
“We can’t let the kids eat this,” I joked with Eli (because they would!) “I want to keep it, I want to remember her sweet little face.”
The generosity, innocence, and love of that little girl brought Luke 21:1-4 to my mind. I felt like I was watching the scene played out before me.
“Jesus looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the offering box, and he saw a poor widow put in two small coins. And he said, ‘Truly, I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she has out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.’”
The girl’s offering wasn’t coins but candy, but the little girl in Atlanta and the widow in Luke shared the same generous heart.
This little action that Jesus observes in Luke 21 is such a powerful teaching point that Jesus stops and uses it as an example. It is important to note that at the end of Luke 20, Jesus is teaching at the temple. He has just finished calling out the Scribes for praying long, extravagant prayers and parading in fine robes. They expect to be greeted in the marketplace and have the best seats at the synagogues (Luke 20:46). In other words, the Scribes expect to receive respect from others. They expect to be treated with importance and to receive what they consider to be an appropriate response for their high status. The Scribes’ desires are worldly attention and affirmation. Jesus says “They will receive the greater condemnation.” (Luke 20: 47)
The widow, on the other hand, has just about the lowest status possible in her society. She has no place of authority. This widow, in particular, is in poverty. She offers two coins that only amount to a fraction of a penny. She puts her coins in the offering box without any show. No one notices her but Jesus. Jesus sees what no one else seems to care about. He looks straight through her lowly position, her insignificant gift, her impoverished appearance and sees her heart. And he praises her. “This poor widow has put in more than all of them.” Jesus saw something others didn’t. Along with the two coins, Jesus watched the widow place her trust, her love, her devotion, her surrender, and her dependence into the offering box. She gave so much more than any else dared.
Her offering is even more impactful when we consider her circumstances. This woman had reason to be disillusioned with God. Her husband had died. We don’t know how, we don’t know for how long. But we know there was no one else to care for her, no one to provide for her. As a widow she had very few rights and very little access to income. Her situation wasn’t fair; it wasn’t just. Her circumstances were not favorable to produce a joyful and generous heart. But she didn’t let her sufferings change her devotion to God.
Like the widow in Luke, the little girl in Atlanta didn’t give me one small candy out a large stash she had stowed away from Halloween or Easter. She didn’t offer, as many children do, her least favorite option. She offered me one of the last little pieces she had. I couldn’t tell, but at the most, there were only a few pieces of candy left in the little paper bag for her. And because of that, her gift meant so much more to me. I treasure it. I think of her when I see it. How much more does that type of sacrificial giving mean to our Heavenly Father?
This widow in Luke and the little girl in Atlanta both challenge me. What do my gifts look like to Jesus? What am I giving not out of abundance, but out of poverty? What am I giving that costs me “all I have to live on”? Do I give in a way that others will stop and notice, or in a way that Jesus will stop and notice? My gifts don’t all have to be financial. In fact, often times it’s easier to give our money than it is to give ourselves as an offering to Christ.
I’m so thankful for the lesson, the conviction, the beauty that came from a little offering of candy. God’s word is alive and active. If we look, sometimes we see it in the most unlikely places. I saw the widow in Luke in a little girl with messy pink makeup and a cheap piece of candy in the middle of Atlanta. May I have a heart like hers.
Jesus, fill me with generosity that is sincere, sacrificial, and surrendered. May I offer all that I have, my very life, to you.