A couple of weekends ago it was my birthday and the kids wanted to do a breakfast for me. I was excited to be able to sleep in and the kids were thrilled to be in charge of the meal. Early on the morning of my big day (unfortunately “big” here refers to the number on my cake) the kids snuck into our room and urged Mark out of bed to help.

Thirty minutes later Noah, my 9-year-old, entered our bedroom carrying a cup of coffee, oblivious to the thin streams that were actively dripping down the side of the cup.  Yes – time for leisure reading with a cup of java. He smiled in triumphant of his accomplishment as handed me the cup of coffee. He proudly told me the menu - hot, gluten-free biscuits, eggs and bacon and then ran back downstairs to rejoin the others.

Another fifteen minutes passed and Anastasia, who had turned 8 the day before, scurried into the room, “I made the biscuits all by myself but the recipe only made three biscuits for some reason - weird, huh! So I’m making more. Can you wait a little bit longer?” No problem...I had more time to sip coffee and read! 

Not long after that Noah returned. He was concerned that I was bored reading by myself so he thought if he read in bed with me, it would keep me from being lonely. (Yep, I suspected a double motive on his kind gesture but I wasn’t about to lose the opportunity of one-on-one with him.) So the two of us cuddled and read. It was fun, however, there was rumbling in my belly and I was getting hungry.

Finally it was time to eat. I was ushered to my chair and a plate filled with runny eggs, half-cooked bacon and biscuits that looked more like thin cookies. Anastasia was worried by the appearance of the meal, “It doesn’t look right!”

We reassured her that the taste was all that mattered with food. We prayed and dug into our meal. It was…”okay” and I was earning an Oscar for my interpretation of eating at a 5-star restaurant until I got to the biscuits. I tried, I really, really did. However, when I bit into the biscuit my mouth involuntarily puckered up and I began feeling a slight burning sensation followed by a metallic taste on my tongue. I faked a reason to go into the kitchen and quickly spit the biscuit into the trash. Unfortunately our kitchen and dining room are open and everyone caught me in the act - costing me my first Oscar.

In my head I was quickly trying to come up with an excuse to why I spit out my food and before I had to, ahem…lie, Anastasia had taken a bite and discovered the same problem. The biscuits tasted like pure baking soda. If you’ve ever eaten a spoonful of baking soda unexpectedly, you know it’s hard to not respond. Anastasia was heart-broken. All her hard work backed with her pure motive of serving me felt wasted. She thought she had failed.

But she was so, so wrong. Okay, I was still hungry and felt a bit nauseated after the biscuit but – I have never before felt so loved on a birthday. Those kids planned, gave up sleep and worked hard, thinking of everything with the sole reason to make me feel special and loved…and I did!

There have been times when I have served and tried to show God my love for him in service but things went wrong – the talk was boring, the article wasn’t clear or I fumbled over my words when talking about God to others. However, God isn’t interested in perfection. He only cares about the purity of motives in my heart. Like me with my kids, He loves seeing us show our love for Him with all of our heart.

So the next time you face a blunder when serving God – don’t feel as if you’ve failed Him. If your motives are pure, I’m pretty sure His heart will be overflowing with the feeling of being loved.

How do you feel and respond with your acts of service to God go wrong?