Please send me a Timothy. I think I’d want to get married if I met a Timothy. No. I know I’d fall for a Timothy. Or an Epaphroditus – as long as we don’t have to name kids after their father …
Imagine someone who looks out first for the interests of Jesus; who works to see the spread of the gospel above his own interests – and looks after his friend in prison while he does it. And then Epaphroditus who almost died when he got sick when he went to see to Paul’s needs in prison … someone who almost died for the work of Christ. No wonder Paul speaks of them as men worth honouring.
Priorities are a funny thing. On a list I can write: “Priority 1: honouring God”, but what does that look like? Please show me.
What might need to give up in the course of doing your will? Health? Certainty of my future here? They’re both gone anyway. Marriage? Kids? Done. Dignity? Work? Sleep-ins? Coffee? Comfort? Do you really have to ask them of me? But not freedom. Surely never that. Please never my freedom.
Am I going to be ready? Please, please, please make me ready before you ask it of me? Is there going to be anything I need to give up anyway?
How do I put you first before all things if I can’t walk away from something without letting go if I must?
Help me God, I’m drowning. The only thing that holds my head together through all of this stuff is the knowledge that you finish what you start. Perhaps you could send me an encourager.
Today is a day that I might just ask for one at home – one that I would call “hot”, you know. (Even better if he doesn’t care if he doesn’t get much of the doona). But it would be also be awesome to have someone to be an encourager at work. (I don’t care what they do with their doona). Would you help me to find one?