To Write the Love of God Above - M. Laycock

There are moments when the love of God overwhelms. Some have experienced it through nature or as they watched the irrepressible joy of a Father watching his child. Some have seen it in those who serve in soup kitchens and homeless shelters. And some discover it in small things that happen day to day.

I experienced it through a small thing recently, as I participated in a fund-raiser for a local group. They had a silent auction as well as booths set up with all kinds of Christmas gift ideas. I sighed as I wandered among them, hoping I could get some of my shopping done, but not too hopeful about finding what was on my family's wish lists. I was especially concerned about buying for one of my sons-in-law who is quite specific about his requests - it's not just a pair of socks, it's a pair of black socks made of a certain blend of material and patterned in a certain way. This year item number one was a series of baseball trading cards. I shook my head when I read it. Where on earth would we ever find such a thing?

Then I saw it - a small sign - "Baseball Trading Cards." I blinked and stepped closer. There were a few packs of cards along with a book. Not knowing anything about baseball, I hesitated. What if these weren't the cards he wanted? What if I had to make a high bid and it was a disappointment to him? I sighed again. Even if the dates on the cards were wrong, at least my son-in-law would know I tried to get him what he wanted. I put my name on the sheet along with my bid.

When I discovered I had won the cards I couldn't wait to get home to check my son-in-law's list. I sat back in stunned wonder when I saw the dates on the cards I had won were exactly the dates he wanted! Then I smiled. I couldn't stop thinking about the look on his face when he opens that present. I knew he would be "over-the-moon" happy.

That's when it happened. I was overwhelmed with the love of my God who would do such a thing for me and my family. Someone once told me that God delights in delighting us. Tears came to my eyes as I realized how true that is.

There are times as a writer, like during the Christmas season, when I am searching for something new to say about Christmas, that I think there is nothing more to say that hasn't already been said about Jesus, his birth and death and his sacrifice for all of mankind. Then I remember that very old hymn that says:

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above,
Would drain the ocean dry.
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.

(The Love of God, Frederick M. Lehman, 1917, Public Domain)

And I rejoice again and am overwhelmed with the love of God, the saviour of my soul. Take a moment to ponder it and allow yourself to be overwhelmed. Perhaps Mercy Me's version on You Tube will help.

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Abundant Rain, Marcia's devotional ebook for writers of faith is now available on Amazon

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Anita Mellott writes to encourage others on their journey of life. With a background in journalism and mass communications, she has worked for more than ten years as a writer/editor in the nonprofit world. She balances homeschooling and the call to write, and blogs at From the Mango Tree (http://amellott.wordpress.com/).

“Mama, Mama, can we help a kid in the Appalachians again this Christmas?” My tween bounced up and down in her chair at the dining table. “Remember? Last year my discipleship group collected gifts that were on a kid’s wish list. I saw a video today. They have nothing. I mean nothing.”

She wrung her hands. “Sometimes they don’t even eat, Mama, and you know what? They walk for miles together to get food, like a tomato. Can we help? Please, can…”

My husband shook his head and interrupted, “Sweetie, it’s not about what we can do. What are you going to do to help?” Her eyes grew wide, and then she looked away and cast her eyes down.
I glared at him. What was he doing? Why couldn’t he encourage her? A deafening silence prevailed.

Slowly my tween raised her head. “I know, Daddy.” She moved the chicken around on her plate with her fork. “I...I was thinking. I’ll give my Nintendo DS.”

I almost choked. “But you saved up for that. Why don’t you give her your IPod Shuffle?
She looked at me. “Mama, I don’t even like my Shuffle anymore. I mean that’s why I saved up for a Nano. I love my DS. That’s why I want to give it to her. And, it was on the wish list.” A tear slid down her cheek.

I bent my head and studied the food on my plate, my cheeks burning.

I heard Jim say, “That’s a good idea. But take some time to pray about it. You should be peaceful about your decision.”

As I raised my head, I caught his glance and saw the smile spreading across his face. I understood what he had been trying to do.

“I’m so proud of you, Princess,” I told my daughter as I tried to smile while holding back my tears.

Christmas is about giving, but it took my tween to remind me about the essence of true giving: Giving when it costs.

I thought of my half-finished manuscript, the log of article ideas, the book proposal my critique group was encouraging me to send out, and the times I begrudge the early mornings and late nights it takes to write. Writing is more than a calling—it’s a sacrifice.

“Lord, you’ve called me to write to encourage others. Help me to give even when I don’t feel like it; to share from my heart selflessly. To give as you give.”

“…I will not sacrifice to the LORD my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing” 2 Samuel 2: 24.


Anita Mellott
From the Mango Tree

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