A Thimbleful

A test! Right in the middle of my devotional composition the Gmail tests me by saying I'm expired. So, after looking up my password, I'm back to try this again. Perhaps you don't want to be wished a sleepy good morning today, but that is where I am. I woke up only sort of awake today. The eyes are gummy, the wits are still in bed, and I don't feel like doing much of anything right now. I do not have a reason, such as going to bed too late or waking up more often than normal to account for this sleepiness, it just is. I guess that is the second test already this morning. What if I had just a thimbleful to work with?

We tend to look down on the poor thimble as a measuring device. In poetry, music, literature, and other media, writers and composers use the measure of a thimbleful to mean scarcity or an unfair amount. A thimbleful of water will not keep a person alive. Serving a thimbleful of mashed potatoes to your guests would be an insult. But not all substances are this way. A thimbleful of plutonium in a city water supply could kill millions of people. Many substances in nature are so toxic that a thimbleful is overkill. Medicines work in tiny amounts too. What about a thimbleful of God's love? Is that enough or too much? We don't know. The little thimble does not work to measure such things.

If God gave me just a thimbleful of faith, I would believe it more than enough. A mustard seed is smaller, yet faith of that size can move mountains. A thimbleful of God's love would more than suffice. Not because I am sure of the amount, but because I am sure in faith of the source of that love. What is a thimbleful of my love shared between all those I know? Again, the amount doesn't matter because the measure is flawed. What matters is to start loving one another and leave the amount to grow like that faithful mustard seed.

God bless you this fine morning!
Bucky