Overflowing Blessing

Give, and it will be given to you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, they will pour into your lap . . .  – Luke 6:38

“Use exact measurements.”

That’s what my recipe card says. The emphatic and specific emphasis is placed squarely on the word “exact.”  I was given this list of instructions by a friend who passed on her technique for making the best bread I’ve ever tasted—along with a jar of bread-starter for me to keep in my refrigerator. I’d long admired her bread making abilities and now had the chance to do it myself.

Now, at least once a week, I pull out the jar of the bubbling liquid concoction that serves as the foundation for this fabulous bread, unfold the tattered paper she gave me a year ago, and carefully follow the guidelines written. She told me how important these instructions were and boy is she ever right. This bread is moody. It has a bit of an attitude problem. You’re never quite sure what sets it off, but one little mishandling of the process will keep the dough from rising properly or baking to a perfect golden brown.

My kids have begun to help me to prepare this favorite snack. They pull their stools over and sit at the counter eager to dirty their hands in the kneading process. Before kneading can begin, flour must be added: 6 cups of bread flour to be exact—and exact these scoops must be. I can entrust the measuring cup to my 4-year-old’s hands now because he’s seen the mood swings of a loaf with too much or too little flour. He’s gotten this down to a science. He reaches the utensil down into the airtight flour container and collects a good measure. Nothing skimpy about the serving he’s gathered. Gratefully, he’s still holding the measuring cup in the container, because there is flour spilling over the sides.  Knowing the need for just the right amount to be added to the ingredients waiting in a nearby bowl, his tiny fingers get a good grasp on the handle and he gently shakes the cup.  I’ve explained to him that doing this will make sure there are no air pockets underneath stealing space that should be filled with flour. Now, he can be sure that every square inch of that cup is being utilized for his purpose.

Finally, he puts his other hand on top of the mound and packs it down firmly. With no air pockets to worry about, he can now press down the flour and make room for more. Inevitable, he finds that there is much more space then he’d thought and now he can add more flour before leveling it off at the edge of the cup and pouring it all into the mixing bowl.  Six times he does this. Scoop . . . shake . . . press down. Scoop . . . shake . . . press down.

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You and I cannot out give God.

Yes, I know how you feel. There’s just nothing else to give, huh? My energy is low just like yours. My “love tank” is running so close to empty; I’m sure I’ll stall soon. It’s only Tuesday, but my patience quota has been used up for the week. I know the feeling of an empty wallet but a full list of the financial needs of others. And just when we feel like we are completely void of anything worthwhile to offer . . . just when we talk ourselves into being apathetic loners who deserve a rest from taking care of others . . . He whispers, “Give . . .”

He commands that we invest our time; our love; our resources . . . ourselves. And He promises that this will be the best investment we will ever make because what we give will be given back—in good measure, pressed down, and shaken together.

He’s not a broker who will cut you short on this deal. When He scoops up the dividends that He is sending back your way, He will make sure it is a good measure. There will be nothing short or skimpy about it. In fact, He doesn’t even worry to make sure that it’s a fair amount. No, He doesn’t give what is deserved. His portion is abundantly good and beyond what is warranted. Then, just to be sure that He’s giving you everything He’s planned, He does a little divine shaking and pressing so that nothing but His favor and miraculous blessing will be headed your way.

And yet, unlike my little one helping to make temperamental bread, His measurements aren’t exact. In fact, they are anything but.  When He gives to you it won’t be like the flaky co-worker or well-meaning friend or family member who you can’t be certain will go the extra mile.  He doesn’t skim off the excess in search of exactness. When He gives it’s topped with a rounded heap so great that it will soon be running over. Your hands and heart will try to grasp every morsel that is spilling over the edges of the container to no avail. There will be too much coming far too fast. Good thing you’ve got a lap, for on it will fall the abundance for which there is no more room. And it just keeps coming and coming.

It seems that the best way to get more of what you need is to give away the little that you have left. What is it you are running short on today; this week; this month; this year? Give it away. Then put a linen napkin across your knees and look to the heaven’s with a holy anticipation.  Be prepared for God’s overflowing blessing.