Day 85

Deuteronomy 17–18 | John 14:15–31 | Psalm 36

“You shall not sacrifice to the Lord your God an ox or a sheep in which is a blemish, any defect whatever, for that is an abomination to the Lord your God.” (Deuteronomy 17:1)

God never wanted leftovers.

The sacrificial system in Israel was not a dumping ground for what was broken, blemished, or unwanted. It was a test of trust. A way to say: I believe God will provide for me even after I give Him my best.

It wasn’t about the animal—it was about the heart.

Because true love holds nothing back—it offers what’s costly, not convenient.

That’s what Jesus said, too:

“If you love Me, you will keep My commandments.” (John 14:15)

Not because He needs something from us.

Not because obedience earns love.

But because love expresses itself in obedience.

Real love gives.

Real love obeys.

Real love sacrifices—not with half-hearted offerings, but with the best we have to give.

This weekend, Talacey, Sophia, and I had the opportunity to help at the backyard wedding I’ve mentioned in previous posts. The couple getting married wasn’t family to the three of us, nor were they close friends—in fact, we’d only met them once before. The bride is Monica’s niece.

We were simply there to help.

J and Monica carried the vision, the weight, and the bulk of the work. We simply had the privilege of coming alongside them in small ways—doing what needed to be done, pitching in where we could, and trying to be faithful in the little things.

We were there because we love J and Monica and their family.

In the days leading up to the wedding, after several long days of yard work and preparation, Sophia asked me—genuinely and without complaint—“Why are we going back to help again?”

It was an honest question. She was tired. We all were.

But I saw her question for the opportunity it presented. I told her serving isn’t something we do only inside the walls of a church. It’s not confined to Sunday school rooms or missions projects or homeless shelters. It’s how we love. It’s how we live out our faith. And this? This was a chance for us to love others, and to love them well—not with words, but with action.

So we went. Again.

Not out of obligation. But out of love.

And in the few days since then, so many of you have asked how it turned out.

It was… stunning.

I’ve been to more weddings than I can count—in churches and chapels, banquet halls and ballrooms. Some of that comes with being a pastor’s kid. Some with having lots of friends and family. Some from having worked in full time ministry for a decade. Then there was the season during which I was what some might call a wedding singer.

So it’s safe to say I’ve seen a lot of cake tiers and toasts and tearful first dances.

But I’ve never seen one more beautiful than this one.

Not because of the flowers (though they were perfect).

Not because of the arbor (though every strand of tulle was just right).

Not even because of the rainbow that appeared after a brief spring rain (though it was breathtaking and perfectly-timed).

What made it beautiful was the love.

Not just between the bride and groom—but between everyone who showed up to attend and brought with them hearts to serve.

No one was keeping score. No one seeking credit.

Every table set, every tri-tip sliced, every trash can emptied—it all became an offering.

Not because it was flawless, but because it was given with joy.

And it reminded me of something from 19 years ago.

When Talacey and I got married, some dear friends of her parents from Arizona flew in—not just to attend, but to serve. They took care of unnoticed details. Set up chairs. Moved tables. Washed dishes. Ran errands. Took the burden off our backs so we could savor the moment.

They gave their best. Quietly. Faithfully. Joyfully.

We’ve never forgotten it.

And this weekend, we got to pass that gift on to another family.

Grace at the Sink

One of the most meaningful moments for me didn’t come during the ceremony or the celebration.

It came at the kitchen sink—washing chafing dishes, platters, charcuterie trays, silverware.

Because just four and a half months ago, I lay in a hospital bed, fresh from surgery to reattach my fingers, knowing this wedding was coming—and quietly wondering if I’d even be able to help.

But there I was—pinching a soapy sponge between my ring finger and thumb, scrubbing every pan and serving spoon with my fistful of scars.

And all I could think was: Thank You, Lord, that I get to do this.

No one there knew what was happening inside me. But my heart and my mind were full.

Not because it was glamorous. But because it was grace.

Not Out of Obligation, But Out of Love

That’s what Deuteronomy 17:1 is really about. Not bulls and goats—but the posture of the heart.

Don’t bring your blemished leftovers.

Bring what’s worthy of the Lord.

Bring what costs something.

Bring what shows your trust in Him to meet your needs when you offer up that which you value most.

And in John 14, Jesus takes it further:

“Whoever has My commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves Me… and I will love him and manifest Myself to him.” (John 14:21)

True obedience doesn’t come from fear.

It flows from love.

And God doesn’t leave us to figure it out on our own. He gives His Spirit to help us—“another Helper,” Jesus says. One who abides with us and teaches us all things. One who gives us peace—not as the world gives.

A peace rooted not in ease, but in the nearness of Christ.

Feasting on His Abundance

“They feast on the abundance of your house, and you give them drink from the river of your delights.” (Psalm 36:8)

That’s the God we serve.

He doesn’t withhold.

He doesn’t ration.

He gives us Himself.

He gave His Son—not blemished, not reluctant, not reserved.

But the perfect Lamb. The unblemished offering. The obedient Son. The One who gave everything—not out of duty, but out of love.

So may our love for Him look the same.

⸻

Lord, I don’t want to give You my leftovers. Teach me to bring You my best—not to earn Your love, but because You’ve already given it. Thank You for giving me the perfect example in, and for pouring out Your Spirit to help me walk in obedience. Let my love be shown not just in what I say, but in what I give—and how I serve. Amen.