Being a "Blogger" is humbling. Lots of people enjoy their favorite blogs, but most would never write one - and who can blame them? What kind of person can deal with hitting the "publish" button on all that work and vulnerability, only to hear...
In all honesty, some folks wonder if there is much value in blogging.
If you are a good writer at all, you are much like the violin virtuoso, homeless and playing for dollar bills in the subway tunnel instead of Carnagie Hall.
Only - I don't even get dollar bills for what I offer to all who pass by this place. (Never fear - you won't see a "donate" PayPal button suddenly appear in the sidebar...) So why do I do it?
Because in offering my encouraging words to you, I am offering them to Christ.
"The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.' "
I happen to notice that it does not say that unless the impact is HUGE, my offering doesn't count. In fact, it seems to be the opposite. The more "downwardly mobile" we are, when we offer our gifts, the more God notices and takes the offering very personally.
It is the giving away what I've been given, to whoever is there to receive it, that counts.
And no one even has to come back and leave a comment, saying "Thank you." In fact, studies show most don't. Ever.
Here is what I know: If the quality of the artist is measured by the gratitude of the audience, then God Himself is no artist at all.
I am here to today tell you that I am grateful for the chance to use my gift(s) in whatever capacity, and I want you to feel the same way. The hard truth is this: forget about "building a platform" or "building a ministry". Because the smaller your venue in the exercise of your gift, the more like Christ you are. (Find me someone else who is saying these things...seriously.)
He left his status and the glory of heaven, to enter the womb of a woman. In His whole life, He built a platform of 12, and gave His gifts of healing and deliverance away to all who were oppressed of the devil. The cross was His thanks.