my alabaster jar

It’s 11.30pm, I’ve just settled back home from a long day of ministry that began at 8am. I sang at a wedding, counselled a young woman, worked on my assignments, coached a young man, observed the youths in our worship ministry at their rehearsal, wrote up my overdue claims for the month, took a cat nap, ate a chicken pie, made a smoothie, had a ministry planning meeting, ate fried chicken with my team on the church rooftop, scheduled a few meetings, replied emails, all in one day. Not in that order. Welcome to a typical Saturday in my life. It’s crazy (but fruitful) busy.

Now that I’m home, I thought that I could handle staying up a few more hours to work on my hermeneutics module assignment that’s sorely lacking my attention this week.

Yet the Lord’s tugging at my heart to come away and trade my textbooks for a YouTube sermon video. To feed myself some soul food tonight for a change. “Search one by Joyce Meyer,” I sense Him nudging.

At ministry today I taught my team about the woman who broke her alabaster jar to lavish on Jesus. We talked about cultivating a heart that’s desperate for God. I taught them that we need to take baby steps of obedience to cultivate this heart of worship. I think my equivalent of her alabaster jar is the time that I have. Truly, this is a precious commodity in my hands, one that I can’t easily give away. My assignment can wait, even if it means going at full speed ahead tomorrow night when I get back from another full day of ministry. As God has called me to spill my alabaster jar, I yield myself to obey.


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