This post is written to link with Five Minute Friday: write for five minutes on a one-word prompt. The prompt today is “privilege.”
When I first went to Margaret’s house for my church small group, I felt a little intimidated. I had never been to a house like this. It was massive- it had a beautiful designer kitchen and a heated driveway, and everything was of the finest quality from the large items of furniture to the top-branded matching soap and hand lotion set in the bathroom.
I was in my mid-20s, in my first full-time job, earning proper money for the first time, living in a single room, with a shared kitchen and bathroom. This was like entering another world.
As I got to know Margaret and her husband, I liked them. They obviously had tremendous wealth and privilege, but they were generous with it, providing dinner for us every fortnight without accepting contribution, and they were friendly and engaging to talk to.
There were times when they’d casually mention a great “bargain” on a pair of shoes, which still cost about the same as I’d have spent on shoes and clothes in an entire year, but, despite the vast differences in our lifestyles, we got on well.
One night, quite soon after I got to know them, I went to small group feeling quite down. It had been a bad week. I can’t remember the detail of that now, but I know it must have been bad, because when Margaret asked how I was, I didn’t just brush her off with the assurance that I was fine. I actually told her that I was struggling. She listened and she prayed for me.
Then, later, as I was leaving, she gave me her mobile number and said that I should feel free to call any time if I needed to talk.
I was amazed. I didn’t exactly understand what Margaret’s job involved but it was in international banking. She would talk about having phone calls from directors of banks in other countries and how they would ask her to fly over to help them through transitions or in troubleshooting problems.
I knew she had a higher-paid and higher-powered job than anyone else I knew, and I couldn’t believe that in the midst of all the phone calls from international banking chiefs and the like that she was willing to make time for me and my little problems.
It felt like an enormous privilege.
But as I thought about it, I realised we have an even greater privilege. God, the Creator of the universe, the one who made and sustains everything, who is sovereign over everything, also tells us to call any time.
Despite his power and splendour, he also cares about the little details of our lives. Nothing is too small or insignificant for him to care about and he will always make time for us. We can call on him at any time, and he longs for us to turn to him and confide in him.
That is the greatest privilege of all.