Receive my Poor Offering

MS

I am a cradle Catholic in my sixties, who in my twenties completely lost belief in Christ’s resurrection and presence in the Eucharist, but by God’s merciful intervention was restored to faith.

One day, while deep in prayer, I was filled with an intense desire to kiss the wounded feet of Jesus, and to give Him an offering as great as that of Mary who anointed Him – shortly before His passion - with horrendously expensive ointment and her tears, wiping his feet with her hair.

While immersed in this longing, suddenly Jesus stood before me, majestic and kingly. He bowed His head, submitting to my desire with a humility that stunned me.

Then, in painful confusion and great sadness, I was aware that I had nothing to give - nothing worthy of so great a King and Lord.

Oh yes, I had immense desire to do praise-worthy things for Him, but, in reality,

all I could bring to Him were my countless failures to love, to live as He commanded.

What a moment of Grace! Jesus accepted me just as I was, with my truckload of unfulfilled desires, my utter sinfulness, my lacks and my failings.

In return, He filled me with assurance that His passion had atoned for all of this, and His mercy had renewed me, had truly given me New Life.

Oh, the unspeakable joy of knowing we are loved and forgiven.

Praise be to God who gives so abundantly.

Not content with those restorative graces flowing from His passion, He gave me also a song - both words and memorable tune - that speaks of His mercy.

A friend later produced the sheet music to go with these lyrics and I am happy to share this:

Here you stand before me now

My Jesus, Lord and King

and oh, so humbly bow your head

to receive my poor offering.

I bring my problems and distress

my ingratitude, my sinfulness.

With these, O Lord, I anoint your wounds

and your mercy makes me new.

For there is none more worthy.

There is no greater love,

than Jesus, Holy One, Son of God.

I wish I had a greater love,

to offer You, my King,

for You deserve infinitely more

than my nothingness can bring.

And yet, my Lord, You look on me

as on the Good Thief, when You hung on the tree.

With your blood, O Lord, you anoint my wounds,

and your mercy makes me free.

For there is none more worthy.

There is no greater love,

than Jesus, Holy One, Son of God.