What if I tithed on my story?
What if I gave 10 %?
What if I left out the hard stuff
and only told blessing He’d sent?
How many pages to cover
the wonderful things God has done?
So many times Jesus saved me.
To His credit my battles are won.
How can I tell of His wonders?
For most I was unaware.
How many times He surprised me.
I’ve stories and plenty to spare.
But who would sit still just to listen?
And how do I form the words best.
Do I write it or speak it or paint it?
Are you sure, Lord? Is this a test?
My story is so complicated.
No good comes for quite a long time.
A big part of my story is ugly.
Those years had no reason or rhyme.
And if I should tithe on my story,
is it good to expose my worst pain?
I’m forgiving, forgiven and changing.
He’s wiped my sin clean—every stain.
So, how does one “tithe” on a story?
Instead, I’ll tithe work of my hands?
My story is tangled with others
who likely will misunderstand.
Jesus called me to sit and be quiet.
He carried my thoughts to a day
when hurt and betrayal consumed me.
Depleted. Hope driven away.
“Just start where you woke on that morning.
This first draft is written for Me.
The whole of the story between us.
No judgmental eyes need to see.
Let’s cover those things you remember.
Don’t sanitize facts or save face.
Name names. Be honest. Don’t edit.
Just write, and don’t yet erase.
Here’s the thing that matters ‘bout tithing.
Give all and I’ll use what is best.
!0 % is only a number.
That 90 % we’ll invest.”
So, I did as the Lord had instructed,
and I wrote with 100 %.
He was there, even wrote along with me.
Time flew, every minute well spent.
A lot was told only to Jesus.
A tell-all was never the plan.
Confessions and anger and anguish,
He listened as only He can.
An editor cleaned up some errors,
The public has had a good peek.
Now I’ve opened my life and my story
to questioning and to critique.
Not once has that tithe turned to bite me.
Not yet has there been a regret.
Whatever my heart gives to Jesus,
He will use it and never forget.
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