My excitement over the 211 Expecting books that you’ve donated has been tempered by the overwhelming needs I know I can never meet. Each e-mail or message saying, “My friend works at this amazing pregnancy center in such-and-such state, and I know they’d love some books,” thrills my soul. Then makes it ache when I think of how many women (and men) are hurting right this very minute.

I sent a box of 16 books to Michigan this afternoon. My friend who paid for the shipping and is delivering them to the pregnancy center talked to someone there today. She said they average 150 clients a month. One hundred fifty. Those books are going to last 3 days.

I read the Compassion posts. I think of all the hurting, scared, starving children. I think of their over-worked, under-paid, suffering parents. I write to Maria in Mexico and wish with everything in me that I could sponsor a million children.

It’s so overwhelming. And I get easily overwhelmed as it is.

My only comfort is this: my God has no limits. He is not limited by money, by time, by anything at all. Where I lack financial resources, enough time in the day to sign 50 books, enough energy to get everything done, he lacks nothing. Nothing is too big for Him. Nothing.

Even the act of writing this post is overwhelming me. I want my words to sound polished and poignant. I want them to have the perfect rhythm and lilt. I want them to hit you at just the right spot and make a resounding impact on you today.

But I’m exhausted. And don’t have the energy to rework my sentences until they pop. This will have to do.

The thought of tomorrow makes me want to crumple in a heap. I need to go to the post office and fill out customs forms so I can send books to Canada. I need to go to the grocery store and then make something yummy for Taviano Thanksgiving Saturday. I’m speaking at a Women’s Tea that afternoon and haven’t planned what I’m going to say. I have 19,000 more words to write on my NaNoWriMo novel before the end of the month.

I inadvertently (well, maybe advertently) donated Ava’s bathrobe to the thrift store some time ago and she realized it this week and begged for another one, so I got her a purple Limited Too robe at the thrift store for $1. Her little sister has asked me no less than 20 times in the past 2 days when she can have one. We’re going to go look tomorrow.

And all the other really super-duper important tasks on my to-do list have slipped my mind.

My point? Ah, yes, the elusive Point. My point is: there’s a limit to what I can do. But when I offer my meager offering to my limitless, omnipotent, stunning, amazing God, He can multiply it, do crazy things with it. On my own, I’m next to worthless. In God’s hand, I am safe and capable and hopeful and significant and confident that His will is going to be accomplished.

For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever. Amen (Romans 11:36)