Quit Countin’
Alright, now, I’ll tell you what, friend, grab yourself one o’ them there porch chairs right over there, scoot it up real close right over here, and git settled in like a sleepy lil’ ol’ raccoon all curled up tight in a hollow log ‘cause we’re ‘bout to take a lil’ ol’ walk right through some truth that’ll warm your heart and tickle your funny bone all at the same time. Second Corinthians 5:10 reminds us that one day every single one of us will stand before the judgment seat of Christ. That’s not really meant to be scarin’ you. No, sir, it’s actually meant to be steadyin’ you, the way a good walkin’ stick steadies a hiker who just spotted a lil’ ol’ squirrel doing backflips way up in the treetops.
Now, by thunder, friend, let me tell you something right out of the gate. You don’t have to keep a spiritual scorecard like a nervous ol’ beaver counting sticks before winter. You don’t have to turn in a report. God is keeping that there report Himself. He sees every kindness, every sacrifice, every whispered prayer, and every moment you choose obedience when nobody but the hoot owls and the crickets are watchin’. Matthew 6:4 says, “Your Father sees what’s done in secret, and He will reward you.” That there means you can sho’-nuff’ stop wearing yourself out tryin’ to make sure the whole world is noticin’ your good deeds. You can quit tallying up your spiritual accomplishments like a lil’ ol’ Banty rooster tryin’ real hard to count all his own tail feathers.
Some of us are so tired ‘cause we want credit. We want applause. We want somebody to say, “Look at all that there good work.” But, friend, God already saw that quiet act of kindness. He saw the sacrifice nobody clapped for. He saw the temptation you resisted when the only witness was a nosy lil’ ol’ chipmunk sittin’ on a fence post. He saw the prayer you prayed in the middle o’ the night when even the fireflies had already gone to bed.
So, just serve. Just love. Just be faithful. God’s record keepin’ is perfect. He won’t be missin’ a single act o’ obedience. He won’t overlook a single moment of compassion. And one day, when you stand before Him, He’ll pull out that there heavenly report, and every hidden deed will be shinin’ real bright like sunlight beams right through the branches in the pine trees. And friend, it’ll all be worth it.
Father, thank You for seeing what no one else sees. Help me serve without seeking applause and love without keeping score. Teach me to trust Your perfect record keeping and to walk faithfully in every small moment. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Now, looky here, friend, as you go to ponderin ‘bout steppin’ off this here porch, you gotta’ be rememberin’ that faithfulness ain’t a parade. It’s more like a steady old turtle that’s makin’ his way across the yard, slow but sho’-nuff real sure. Obedience ain’t no spotlight. It’s more like a coal oil lantern that’s glowin’ quietly in the dark woods on a moonless night. An’ God’s reward ain’t floppy an’ wobbly like a flimsy scarecrow flippin’ ‘round in a big windstorm. It’s real solid, real certain, and just waiting for you. So, keep on goin’. Keep on serving’. You’re seen, you’re known, and you’re held tighter than a lil’ ol’ squirrel grippin’ real tight to his last acorn in November.
With joy,
Gwen
