Pocket Treasure

Our church is focusing on commitments to give, and we've been looking at the related joys of giving. This all reminds me of a particular Sunday when my son was just a little fellow.

One of the most stoic pillars of our former church was passing the offering plate down the aisle. I honestly do not remember having ever seen this quiet, gentle giant smile before. He came to our pew, where my son had scooted beyond my reach to the end nearest the man. When the somber gentleman presented the offering plate, my son began to methodically empty his little-boy-pocket of its contents onto the seat. One by one, out came all the treasures: a crayon, a matchbox car, a string, etc.

As his mom, I was getting a little nervous, knowing the serious nature of the man who still stood holding the outstretched plate. I looked up to see the man almost chuckling! He was deeply enjoying the process with great patience, and his eyes sparkled with true delight.

I've looked back on that moment many times down through the years as I've thought about the process of giving. What does God watch us empty from our pockets? Is he amused by our struggle to sort through our treasures and find what we want to give?