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The Greatest Gift

Have you ever felt discouraged? Felt unnoticed by God? Have you worked hard for the Kingdom of God or in the church and felt unappreciated? Has it seemed like your sacrifices, like struggling to get the kids to church on time, to squeezing in time to help a sick neighbour, to taking money from the grocery budget to help a missionary, are unimportant or forgotten? So many other people seem to do more or do it better. Your heart of love wants to give to the Lord Jesus, but you have so little time, money or experience. Does it really matter? Take a few minutes to read this story of a woman in the Bible who felt just like you do.

The Greatest Gift

As the old woman shuffled through the streets of Jerusalem, the dust seemed to cling to her. There was no getting rid of it. Her eyes drifted from the dirty street to the fruit stalls she was moving past. Her stomach rumbled as she remembered it had been several days since she had had more than a few crumbs to eat. What a treat it would be to have a few fresh figs or dates, maybe just a bite of a juicy peach. She watched as a vendor picked out a bruised peach with a look of disgust. It was no good to him, but it would still taste good. Maybe…maybe he would give it to her. He glanced her way and then tossed it in the garbage.

The old woman’s eyes returned to the street, and she slowly and painfully continued toward her destination. A spark of humour glimmered in her eyes as she thought, Getting old isn’t for the faint-hearted. She felt the aches of a life of hard work. It had been a good life, though. She and her husband had enjoyed every minute of it as they worked side by side to farm their small property. Their only sadness had been that they were unable to have children. A tear trickled down her cheek. Then he had died four years ago. Alone. She had been left alone in a world without a husband to protect her or children to provide for her. It had been terrifying, but she had survived. Praise the God of Israel!

Of course, it hadn’t taken the creditors long to seize her property and turn her out into the street. She had prayed. Prayed hard. She remembered the story she had heard many times being read in the synagogue. It was her favourite [2 Kings 4]. It was about a poor widow who was about to have her children taken as slaves to repay her husband’s debt. The prophet Elisha had told her to get as many jars as possible. When she did, the oil from her little jug had filled all the containers. What a miracle! The widow had been able to sell the oil, pay off the debt and save her children from slavery. The old woman sadly shook her head. There had been no miracle for her.

Still, God had looked after her. From time to time, kind people had helped her. She had earned a little money washing clothes or doing odd jobs. It had never been much. It had never filled her stomach, but it had kept her alive, and for that, she was grateful. Her bony fingers felt two small coins in her palm. It was all the money she had had for days. She cast her eyes back at the fruit stalls. But no, she had travelled to Jerusalem for a special purpose.

She paused at the bottom of the long walkway up to the top of the Temple Mount. She lifted her head so her eyes could once again take in the Temple of the God of Israel. It was magnificent, a true world wonder, with its white marble and gold plating. There it was, with the sun glinting off its sides, shining like a beacon for all the world to see. The dwelling place of the one True God, the God of Israel. Her heart swelled with pride. This was what she had wanted to see one last time.

She glanced down at her dirty, torn dress and pulled her worn shawl close around her shoulders. Then she held her head up high. She, too, was a daughter of Abraham. The God of Israel was her God. She would show her love for Him.

Slowly, she picked her way between the bustling pilgrims going to and from the Temple Mount. They came from all over the world. If she had been less tired, she may have gazed wonderingly at some of the rich and strange attire that adorned them. But her eyes looked straight ahead, one object in mind - the Temple.

At last, she reached the top, panting. She leaned against a wall to catch her breath. It hadn’t felt that long the last time she was here with her husband. She smiled at the remembrance of his tender touch and soft words. A pang of loneliness stung her heart.

Then she looked up at the massive bronze gates decorated in gold. Her attention was temporarily averted as Roman soldiers marched past on their way to their barracks in the Fortress Antonia attached to the far side of the Temple complex. She spat on the ground as her eyes followed them. One glanced at her, but she knew he would not consider her worth the trouble of discipline. Age did have some advantages.

Taking a deep breath, she moved with the crowds into the Court of Women. There she saw the object of her travel. Trumpet-shaped offering boxes. Her fingers rubbed the coins again. How she wished she had more to give to the God of Jacob, something that was really worthwhile, but she would give what she had.

Suddenly, a trumpet sounded behind her. She turned along with everyone else in the Courtyard to see who had entered. A richly dressed man surrounded by servants and friends strutted past her toward the offering trumpets. In his hurry, he accidentally bumped into the woman, sending her sprawling to the ground. He paused for a second, his eyes meeting hers. Then he wrinkled his nose as if a disgusting smell had wafted by and continued to his destination.

The old woman slowly picked herself up. Her eyes, along with everyone in the courtyard, watched as the man stopped in front of a trumpet. With a look of great satisfaction, he pulled out a bag of gold coins. Dramatically, he began dropping them into the slender neck of the trumpet, then pausing to listen to it fall to the bottom. When the bag was empty, he pulled out a second bag from under his cloak. A gasp went up from the watchers at the value of the gift. The man repented his procedure until the second bag was empty. Then, smiling, he took a few steps to the side and began talking to his friends.

Moving forward, the old woman stopped in front of a trumpet. Again, she rubbed the two small coins in the palm of her hand. It wasn’t much. She wished she could do more. Her eyes went to the empty bag in the rich man’s hand. Slowly, almost embarrassed about her small gift, she placed her hand over the trumpet mouth and released the coins. They hardly made a sound as they dropped to the bottom. She glanced at the rich man and his friends. One of them pointed at her and made a comment that had his friends laughing. With a tear in her eye, she turned away.

As she began to walk toward the gate, she noticed another man with some men gathered around Him. It was that controversial Rabbi, Jesus of Nazareth. He smiled at her. Not a mocking smile, but a kind smile which captured a joyful glimmer in His eyes. He motioned her over. She stood for a moment, unsure what to think. Then she shuffled in His direction.

When she was close enough, the Rabbi put His hand softly on her shoulder and looked her in the eye. She could tell by the shocked look of His disciples that He had scandalized them by touching a woman. In a tender voice, He said, “My daughter, thank you for your gift.” With his hand still on her shoulder, He turned to his disciples and said, “This daughter of Abraham has given more than anyone else.” Their eyes glanced across the court to the rich man and his friends. The Rabbi continued, “They gave a little of their extra money, but this woman has given everything she had to live on; no one can give more than that.”

And so the woman shuffled off into history, forgotten by those around her, but remembered for all eternity by the only One Who really matters.

Every sacrifice you make, every gift of love you give, no matter how small, is a chest full of treasure to Jesus. He doesn’t look at how much is given but the heart that it is given with. What you do matters to God even if no one else sees it. Your heart of love is appreciated. Don’t be discouraged; don’t give up. Your struggle is not in vain. You ARE making the heart of God glad, you ARE noticed in heaven, and you WILL BE rewarded.

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