When we lived in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, I went to visit a member of our church. He had been a strong leader in the congregation, but for several Sundays we didn’t see or hear from him.

Friends told me he had inherited some money and was building a house. I found him at the construction site. He’d inherited three hundred dollars. With the money he’d purchased a tiny lot adjacent to a polluted swamp. The plot of land was the size of a garage. On it he was, by hand, constructing a one-room house. He gave me a tour of the project-it took about twenty seconds.

We sat in front and talked. I told him we’d missed him, that the church needed him back. He grew quiet and turned and looked at his house. When he turned again his eyes were moist.

“You’re right, Max,” he confessed. “I guess I just got too greedy.”

Greedy? I wanted to say. You’re building a hut in a swamp and you call it greed? But I didn’t say anything because he was right. Greed is relative. Greed is not defined by what something costs; it is measured by what it costs you.

If anything costs you your faith or your family, the price is too high.

When God Whispers Your Name

copyright [Word Publishing, 1994] Max Lucado, p. 65,66.

Used by permission