And He looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the treasury.  And He saw a poor widow putting in two small copper coins.  And He said, “Truly I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all of them;… Luke 21:1-3

I sat down next to my friend Yvette just as the service was beginning. She had called me earlier in the morning asking for a ride to church.   She doesn’t speak any English and conversing in Spanish on the telephone is difficult for me, especially since Yvetter has a very soft voice. I finally figured out where she was currently living. It was another little ramshackle home, the fourth or fifth place she’s lived in since I first met her a number of years ago. This house is behind Paul’s Grocery store, one in a cluster of broken down houses where poor people live.

I asked her about her kids. “Bien, bien.” Was she working? Only a few hours on Sunday afternoons at a motel, she told me. “No hay mucho trabajo”. There isn’t much work.  Her hours were cut again and when she worked, she needed someone to watch the two children. The boyfriend was out of the picture again. Hers is a familiar story, one I’ve seen over and over at the food bank and beyond. She’s a single mother in a town where she’s isolated by language and culture. Her family, including two other children, are in Mexico. She has no one close here.  She works as a house maid when she can get the work, but basically Yvette is as poor as the proverbial church mouse. She calls me because I speak some Spanish and because I’ve helped her through a few rough crises.

I gave Yvette a Spanish Bible so she could follow the service a little, but she never opened it. Later it occurred to me that she might be unable to read at all. Still, she kept her eyes on the front screen during Praise and Worship and sat quietly through the music. Every once in a while I translated lyrics for her.

When it was time for the offering, the basket came to our row. I opened my purse and took out a bill to put in the basket. Yvette also took out her wallet. I could see she had several dollars folded up, maybe four. She took out more than half of them. Knowing how little she has, I put out my hand to stop her and say, “ No, it’s OK, you don’t have to give anything., Yvette.“ And then the Lord let me have it! I heard very clearly, “Don’t you dare presume to take away her blessing!” “Do not stop her from giving me her offering. ‘ The words were  a nerve shock and I turned my attention elsewhere, squirming around  Him who was not so gently chastising me.

When I get an admonition like that, I surely pay attention and I’ve been chewing on the lesson for weeks now. I had been presumptuous because I believed Yvette was too poor and couldn’t afford to give. In fact it would have been an insult to her and dishonoring to God. I was stepping into God’s territory. He was teaching me about my own heart, for truthfully, I paid little mind to  what I was doing. True, I had more money in my wallet than my friend, but I gave little thought to the paper offering  I tossed into the basket. I certainly didn’t bless God first with a prayer of thanks for how He constantly blesses me. I took Him for granted.

Naturally,   I’m reminded of Luke’s story of the poor widow’s mite because the situation with Yvette was so similar. Yvette is poor but offered the greatest portion of what she had; the widow put in all of her resources. They sacrificed from their  hearts and had  faith. They believed they would be blessed and provided for. And I? I hate the idea that I was like the Pharisees sitting in judgment of   my friend’s offering.  Sometimes “good intentions”  actually reveal a selfish mind set.

In Luke’s account, Jesus was  in the temple confronting the Pharisees who “devour the houses of the widows.” He sat  across from the treasury, watching people  make  their offerings. Jesus was observing more than   pocketbooks and coins.  He was looking for the sacrifice of people’s hearts, to trust in God for provision, just as the widow did and my friend gave. Their offering is greater than the  Pharisees’ or mine  because they gave proportionately  much more out of their hearts as well as their treasure.

Jesus has seen both of us and Yvette will be blessed.  I pray He  sees my heart a little more broken, a lot more humbled after this incident. Teachable moments come unexpectedly. While they’re painful, they are always filled with God’s grace because He loves us so. Jesus is always an amazing teacher!

Friede Gabbert