Susan LaffertyFrom an early age, I learned about giving. Putting money in the offering plate.
Then Mom and Dad taught me to tithe my small allowance.
It wasn’t much. But I learned what a tenth was.
And gave every Sunday at our church in Surabaya.
Jars filled with water. Outwardly common. Inwardly plain.
Others know what we’re made of. See the flaws. Rough edges. They remember the ordinary ways we walk and talk.
But we surrender. To the One who receives this offering.
Such as it is.
Legacy, unintentional.
From the least likely.
A poor widow
unnamed
obscure
hidden
in the shadows
of wealthy patrons.
Slipping in
behind
crowds and
considerable contributions
at the temple coffers.
