Matthew 6:25-34 (NLT)
That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food and drink, or enough clothes to wear. Isn’t life more than food, and your body more than clothing? Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are? Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?
And why worry about your clothing? Look at the lilies of the field and how they grow. They don’t work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?
So don’t worry about these things, saying, "What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?" These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers, but your heavenly Father already knows all your needs. Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need.
So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.
…by the time I walk through the grimy swing door at the shelter Saturday morning, Clive smears on a stupid smirk. It’s almost sinister, with his mouth stretched animatedly and his eyes darting back and forth between his open Life Recovery Bible and me.
“Are you going to make me ask?” I say.
He plays coy. “Good morning, Mr. Provine. There’s a fresh pot of coffee on.”
“Thank you. Now…how did your meeting with Steve go?”
“Went good, man. Went good.”
As an wannabe writer, I’m usually the one masterfully shaping the suspense of a story. Today, Clive the Student transformed to Clive the Teacher. I’m hanging expectantly by every word and movement, fearing that an overly happy and content reaction translated to negative news, but still hoping for the best.
“I got the job,” he says anticlimactically.
“Start on Monday. Be doing oil changes and stuff.”
“Praise God,” I rejoice with him.
He knots up a moment before flailing in the blink of an eye. “Praise God,” he roars, jerking around like one of those Holiness preachers. Tears well up in his eyes and spill over. “God is so good to me, man.”
“I know.” I pat him on the back in an encouraging fashion.
“You have no idea,” he responds. He’s back to normal. The tears dry and the grin reemerges. “I got to show you somethin’, brotha. Walk with me,” he draws out, again like a charismatic minister. We leave the meeting room and walk until we stand at the closed door to the fellowship hall. With vigor, he swings the creaking door open, steps back, raises his hands, and pumps his fists. “Taste and SEE that the Lord is good…”
I poke my head hesitantly around the corner, keenly aware of the tradition of practical jokes pulled at the Arms of Mercy. There’s nothing above the door I can trigger to spill all over me. There are no people poised to jump out and try to give me a heart attack. There is no brand new car I had won. There is no Publishers Clearinghouse representative with a check for one million dollars. What there is, however, is the cordoned-off back portion of the fellowship hall crammed with anything (and everything) needed to start life anew. At least in a physical home sort of way. Couches, a Lazy Boy recliner, a big screen TV, framed pictures, a desk, table and chairs, bed and mattresses, clothes, bathroom supplies, Christmas decorations. Golf clubs. How that much stuff was compressed to fit in that space is still a mystery. Only enough space for a small trail through the things is open.
“What’s all this?” I stare in wonder.
“Donations, man. Donations.”
“We’ve never had a donation like this.”
“That’s what Major told me, too.”
“And right before you’re about to leave us.”
“Don’t you think I know that!” he exclaims, his joy running over again.
“Praise God,” he echoes. “And I’m so glad I get to share this moment with you…”
“Me, too.”
“’Cause I’m gonna need someone to help me move it all.”
We laugh together, one in spirit.
Today’s Application: In what ways can you relate to Clive?
