What Will You Give Me?
My flocks fill the valley…my wife is dressed to kill…no man, no king has made me rich…only the Almighty has blessed me so. My neighbors pay me homage and my servants jump to attention at the snap of my fingers. Ah…life is good! Who could wish for anything more?
And the Lord appeared to Abram in a vision, “Abram, I am your shield and exceeding great reward.”
And the Lord waited. Would Abram remind Him of the promised child? Would Abram stretch for more or would he sit back, count his money, and take Sarah shopping?
No! From the depths of his anguished soul Abram cried out, “Lord God, what will you give me seeing I go childless and the steward of my house is this Eliezer of Damascus? There’s a longing in me…I want more…a legacy. I want to leave an imprint on the world.”
Some might judge, “What’s the matter with you, Abram? You’re in retirement. Life is easy. Have a baby? Reach for new dreams…at your age? Can’t you be content just being rich? You’re too old!”
The world will never understand the passionate longing that burns like fire in the bosom of a child who senses the Almighty calling him deeper calling him to go further.
And God drew Abram aside, away from his reeling thoughts and displayed the splendor of the stars.
“Dream big, Abram. The stars you cannot count are the number of your seed which will come from your own bowels. And all nations will be blessed because you believed.”
One man wouldn’t let go of God’s promise. One man chose not to slip behind his newspaper, sipping coffee while the world swirled out of control. One man made an eternal impact when a Savior was presented to the nations!
My sister, do you sense a stirring in your soul, a yearning for something more? Is there yet a craving within that calls you to dream again, and ask God to give you the heathen for your inheritance? Do you cry out as Abraham, “Lord what will you give me?”
Be encouraged! God has given you a field—a harvest. You’re not too young— not too old.
The enemy will assail you with doubt. He will endeavor to belittle your qualifications. Satan trembles, and in fear He will circle the wagons in a feeble attempt to shut your mouth, dear lioness.