A Messy Offering

My blog comes from the Old Testament today — Leviticus 1&2.

I’m in awe at how messy an offering to the Lord must have been. I grew up around animals, so when Clyde casually says, “They slit the throat first,” I nod — but let’s be honest. It was a serious mess. Blood, flesh, ashes. And someone had to clean it all up.

What struck me is that the Lord didn’t just command the offering — He gave detailed instructions for handling the mess (see verses 3–9). Even the cleanup was sacred work.

That led me to ask: Is my offering of a contrite and broken heart messy too?

Not outwardly. No visible blood or ashes. But inwardly? Oh yes. Real repentance is a process. You take one trait at a time and decide it has to go. You push against a thought at first. You make vows each morning to do better. Your actions begin to change… but then there’s the mind.

Oh, that mind.

Something can stroll across the stage of thought uninvited and unwelcome, and suddenly you feel back at square one. Or are you? Maybe not. Maybe progress isn’t erased just because the battle continues.

One thing becomes clear: the Lord is a loving Father — our greatest cheerleader. Scripture is full of reassurance that He is patient, forgiving, and long-suffering… even if I can’t pull a reference instantly from memory today. (My biggest complaint with my mind, right there.)

So is my offering messy?

Yes. It is messy inside. And I’m deeply grateful the Lord doesn’t have a quota on how many times He will forgive.

I won’t pretend I fully understand the burning of offerings. It feels foreign and distant from my modern life. But when Leviticus 2 turned to grain offerings, my ears perked up. I know grain. I’ve milled my own flour. I love making sourdough bread. And I’ve learned — leave out the salt, and the bread is hardly worth eating and certainly not sharing (or offering).

Maybe there’s a lesson in that too.

These chapters are confusing, yes. But I’m trying to let them speak to my life. And sometimes, a disjointed offering is still an offering the Lord accepts.

Closing Scripture

“Yea, and as often as my people repent will I forgive them their trespasses against me.”
— Mosiah 26:30

What a comforting truth. My offering may be messy. My progress may feel uneven. My mind may wander onto stages I never invited it to. But as often as I return, He forgives. No quota. No expiration. Only patience, mercy, and love.

So I’ll keep bringing my offering — again and again — trusting that He receives it.