Tepid Offerings

I want to offer my life to God.
For all He has given me, I want to give back, but how?

A song maybe. Or an offering of some kind. A sacrifice, perhaps.
Should I preach? Should I write something grand? Should I join other believers in a parade or extravaganza proclaiming His Name?

No, I don't think so.
The way to make an offering to God is by word and by the leanings of my heart.
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be always acceptable in your sight, my Lord and my Redeemer.--Psalm 19:14
Word and attitude. That is my offering.

God did not give me a life to live from event to event. Life is not made of empty spaces connecting noteworthy occurences.
God gave me a constant life, one where every moment counts. I cannot help but live it word by word and thought by thought, and so must I dedicate it to Him.

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons
.--TS Elliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

There is no other way.
Breath by breath, thought by thought.
And so I measure out my offering. Constant. Unremarkable.
The automatic replies, the doing of dishes, the soft pause when I, just this once, manage to hold my tongue.
Spoon by tepid spoon.

But as I do it, my eyes incline themselves toward God, and He meets them.
It makes all the difference.
And, in the end, it's all I have.