My fingers trembled as they clutched the mouse. My Facebook feed showed a post by a young mom who pleaded for someone to give her a second chance to raise her child. She asked for a kidney.
She had a son. I have sons.
She had type O+ blood. I have type O+ blood.
The words of John the Baptist echoed in my head:
Anyone who has two shirts should share with the one who has none, and anyone who has food should do the same. (Luke 3:10)
Surely God couldn’t be calling me to give up one of my two kidneys. He wouldn’t do that. John the Baptist was talking about shirts, not body parts. But I do have two kidneys, and they both function very well.
The words of Esther rattled around in my soul:
Who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this? (Esther 4:14)
Surely God couldn’t be telling me that I have come to this comfortable and healthy position for such a time as this. He wouldn’t do that. Esther lived in another time, another place. But I am healthy, even if I’m not the queen of anything.
The words of Jesus in Luke 12:48 clinched the matter:
From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.
The entire evening, I wavered between utter fear (what if I died?) and incredible joy (could God really use me to save a life?). A week later, I submitted my name and began to walk the endless parade of tests to see if I could be a kidney donor. I pledged to walk the path as long as God allowed, and He hasn’t let me off the path yet. The tests are done, I have been approved, and all that is left is to find a match. (The original mom who started me on this journey already found one.)
Some of the tests were so perfect that they left the medical doctors scratching their heads, but I was not surprised in the least. But how could I explain the mystery of God paving a path for this surgery? How could I explain that somehow I knew, deep down, that God was doing something bigger than me, something bigger than a simple kidney donation?
It seems a little wild, doesn’t it? Plenty of people have told me so. But the most wild, most exquisite part of this whole story is that it started four years ago, when I was pregnant with my youngest son. The Lord spoke a word over me, a word that I have kept to myself for so long. The word? Lifegiver.
That name, whispered into my heart during a prayer retreat, seemed silly at the time. Of course I was a lifegiver: I was pregnant. But now I look back and realize the incredible story that God is weaving. Like God changing Abram’s name and then changing his reality to fit the name, God has been slowly changing my heart, my passions, and my abilities to be a better reflection of the name He already gave.
But the true Lifegiver is God. He’s the hero of this story, not me. He spoke the word, He put me on the path, and He will keep me from wandering off the path.
What path has God been paving for you?
Has He gifted you with two of something, or given you certain life circumstances for a reason?
Has He given you much and is therefore asking more of you?
Perhaps this is your chance to give to the one who has none, or to step onto a path that others fear to tread. Let’s be brave together, because the Lord our God is with us, wherever we may go.