In God’s economy, the gift he gives us also has a receiver who is waiting to be blessed by it. May we use it for that purpose, even though we may never know the recipient.
I’ve been thinking about the way Moses wrote the Pentateuch, those first five books in the Bible. Where did he get his writing skills? Maybe from his superior education in Egypt? Or inherited from an ancestor? It was a long story that he had to write. He could never have done it without God’s gift.
If we could record all the things our parents and grandparents ever told us, we might be able to write a book too, but how many people do? Some tell stories; others write letters; a few have blogs! Journalists fill our eyes, ears and senses with news. And many talented authors have written books.
I have a Diary with lots of information about my life. I began keeping it nearly thirty years ago. I also have a Gardening Journal about the development of various plots – not for stage plays or crime fiction – but for the plants we’ve grown. And there’s my Bible Reading Notebook where I record questions and amazing facts that I see as I read each morning.
And beside my armchair I have a small volume ready to jot down any memories that my husband might occasionally recall from his childhood. It has no name, so let’s call it a Memorandum.
In my Analecta Book I’ve written interesting quotes from sermons, stories and other places, and there are exercise books that hold my poetry. How did I come to be such a busy writer? As far as I know, there’s no-one in my family who writes in quite the way I do. Did I inherit it or was it sitting there, waiting to be used. Like Moses.
Without his ‘Book of the Revelation’, as it’s sometimes called, where would we discover our origins? Or the Truth about how much God loves us. If Moses hadn’t written it, where would we find the way to reach out to the Creator of the world?
You might ask why I don’t perform on stage, in movies, or create beautiful paintings that speak of God’s presence in the world he made. No, I haven’t been given those gifts, but I can’t imagine not writing; it’s the first thing I go to when I want to save something worthwhile. It’s the first idea I suggest if someone tells me they’ve made a big discovery. Write it down! Don’t forget it!
I know I’ve been prepared for my unique task, but that doesn’t make me any more special than the person who grows delicious fruit and vegetables. (Plant it!) Or a dressmaker who fashions clothes that fit perfectly and complement the wearer. (Sew it!) And what about the nurses who use their gentle kindness to listen to those who are hurting? (Touch!) And the designer of bridges that can bear heavy weights that could never cross a river otherwise. (Engineer it!). Imagine how life would be without all those gifts, and many more, that God has given to people who think they’re nothing special.
At times, it takes a bit of discernment to recognise what our gifts are. Moses insisted that he couldn’t speak on God’s behalf; he disagreed with God about confronting Pharaoh. Have we ever thought, that for every gift, there is a receiver. Not us, but the one who is to be blessed by the gift we’ve been given.
So what do we each need to stop arguing with God about?