First Fruits

I have known Abigail since she was in her mother's womb. The Lord had just taken her dad, without whose physical presence she would grow up.

And grow up she did, under the care of her mom, who also took up the cudgels for a dad. As a toddler, Abigail was regularly brought to Sunday school, while her mom attended the church service. In adult Sunday school, her mom (many years my junior) and I would be classmates, and eventually teach the class alternately.

As a teenager, Abigail was an active member of the church youth group, leading in various activities. She would also handle little kids in church projects.

Now she is a remarkable young woman, reminiscent of her courageous namesake in the Bible. After finishing a degree in education, she immersed herself into the rigid review for the licensing exam. Predictably, she aced it, and landed a job in the process.

And then came the anticipated milestone of every newbie in the working world—payday!

Here's what her mom shared with me, meant to be confidential. But I am writing about it because my heart is full, and I feel like it's light on a hill that can't be hidden:

Abigail asked her, “This is my first fruits, right, mom?”

“Yes.”

“Then I should offer it to the lord.” And she placed the total amount, every single centavo of it, into the offering plate during the next Sunday worship service.

This is the sort of thing that makes me cry (okay, bawl and blubber, in private). And I tear up every time I remember this. She makes any mother proud.

Knowing and seeing Abigail, who must have learned her ways by her mother's  example, is grace beyond words. I say no more.

“Honor the Lord with your wealth and with the first fruits of all your produce; then your barns will be filled with plenty, and your vats will be bursting with wine.” Proverbs 3:9-10 (ESV)