It was an opportunity. 

She needed a place to stay. We had room. 

But what we were short on was margin.  

As I heard more details, something niggled in me. Our family’s weaknesses seemed like a poor tonic for her needs.  

When I (finally) got honest with myself, the opportunity didn’t seem like something I could manage well—loving her and my family well at the same time. 

But there’s a word I loathe to say: No. 

My overcommitment, you see, isn’t a bunch of nonessentials nibbling at my calendar’s white space. It’s people. People with needs, pain, and hope. 

Yet words from a friend settled in my chest: The need does not always constitute the call. 

Sometimes the need does constitute the call! Need had pulled us hand-over-hand to this place. It knocks at my gate, and I have a choice to turn it away or to welcome it in and share what I have. 

But not always. And like Missions Whack-a-Mole, opportunities are everywhere. 

I’m a “help first, ask questions later” kind of gal. But more careful loving has saved our family from a lot of hurt: not only to ourselves but also the people I’m hoping to “help.” When I’m not overcommitted, my love can be sincere (Romans 12:9), rather than half-hearted because I simply have nothing left to give. 

Acting solely based on need rather than sober judgment (Romans 12:3) reveals unbelief—as if God desperately needs me, and only me; as if Christ’s Body is not to be trusted. I think more highly of myself than I ought. At times, it can be a large view of myself and a small view of God.  

I can also tend to see myself more as a slave than God’s loved daughter. Subtly, I can start preaching the Gospel to myself, reminding myself that I’m accepted based on what Jesus does. Not me. 

Some of my opportunities are a chance for a faith-filled no.