We were newly married and brand-new parents, too. Our little girl, just three months old, lay in the PICU hospital bed. We'd brought her in the night before and were admitted to the hospital. She had bronchiolitis and would be okay. Yet as we sat there in her hospital room for the next seven days, my heart broke over and over again.

With every needle poke. With every new bag of fluid. With the next dose of medications, my heart broke for our girl. What I would have given to be the sick one instead of her, to offer my littleness for her!

I was exhausted, mentally, physically, but spiritually most of all. We were already more or less living paycheck to paycheck, buried in our law school loans. And the thought of medical bills on top of everything else made my heart sink deeper into despair.

It felt like I had nothing, just nothing to give like the widow in today's Gospel, Luke 21:1-4.

And yet in those silent moments in Cal's hospital room, as she slept and night fell, I'd chat with God, offering only what I knew I could—my heart and a desire to follow His will for us. I realized in those little moments that though I felt like I had nothing to offer, what I could offer meant everything to Him—myself right where I was at—and that was enough.

Blessed be His name when I have much to give. Blessed be His name when I have what feels like very little to give. Blessed be His name because what I have to give is me. My desires. My plans. My finances. My past, present, and future.

God, help me to offer what I can today. To give to You freely. To trust in Your plan for me. Help me to know that offering myself to You—just as I am—is enough for You to draw me into Your love and help me grow closer to You.

[bctt tweet="Blessed be His name because what I have to give is me. // Shalini Blubaugh" username="blessedisshe__"]

listen to today’s devotion

Let's pray the Anima Christi prayer together today.