Jesus was in this man. In his toothless grin. In his desire just to get paid a few cents to drive his carriage so that he can eat dinner tonight. And Jesus created this man. He knows how many hairs are on his head. He knows him by name. Yet this man’s brokenness permeated my very soul.
Jesus has been talking to me a lot about doing what He says to do. About looking a little bit more like Himself. And that takes action. We can pray, worship and fast all we want. But to become more like Him also requires action. Something I’m often not so good at. I say I care about what Jesus cares about. But, if my life doesn’t reflect it in my actions, than my words are void. If Jesus cares about love and justice – than I should to. If He cares about the “least of these”, than I should as well.
I’ve been wanting to make a commitment to the Lord, to stop overlooking the men and women sleeping on the sidewalk. To stop overlooking the brokenness that I see all around me. So often I walk by and say a quick prayer. But is that enough? What would Jesus do?
It’s uncomfortable not overlooking these people. Because it requires action. It requires stepping out in front of of peers and others to do something. Sometimes it requires making a scene. And, for those of you who know me, I’m more of a behind the scenes kind of gal. But Jesus has been telling me that when I see these people, I’m seeing His sons and daughters. I’m seeing someone that He loves very much, that He created to know Him and be found by Him. And that’s humbling. It means I have to do something. I don’t have much money. I don’t have much to tangibly give.
But if Jesus is asking me to see these people with His eyes – and even to see Himself in these people, I can no longer overlook these people.
When this man asked me for a ride in his carriage I said no and went on my way. But then, I sat down on a bench not far from him and watched him. Jesus told me to be His hands and feet to this man. I didn’t do much, I bought an iced tea and brought it to him. He offered me another ride and I said no. It wasn't a lot, but I hope that this man experienced something different when he received that iced tea. I hope he saw Jesus and not me. I hope that he saw that he was worth something. Through his toothless grin and his frail body – I hope he knew that he was loved in that moment.
I’m reading a brand new book on the shelves right now called “Pursuing Justice” by Ken Wytsma. He says this in the introduction, “those who require everything and seem to give nothing in return – is the very picture of God’s love for us” (Wytsma, xx).
He goes onto say, “It wasn’t about God needing anything from me – His delight came in the giving, not the receiving. God’s love for me sacrificed, forgave, and endured all things, not because I was a good return on His investment, but because God’s love is pure. And that meant it wasn’t about what I could get so much as what I had already been given” (Wytsma, xx-xxi).
It’s not about me. It’s not about me giving an iced tea to this man. It’s about what I’ve already been given. I’ve been given everything and deserve none of it.
And that’s the very picture of God’s love for you and me.
I'm convinced that when I serve the "least of these", I'm serving Jesus. And that's a paradigm shift. If that is truth, than it changes everything. It changes my life and my purpose. It changes how I see others and even how I see myself.
Jesus, give me Your eyes. Let me see what You see. Make me more like Yourself and less like the world. I pray that I would know that You gave everything up for nothing in return. Let that be the rhythm of my life – because of what You first did for me. Amen.
Let our lives look different than the world's. Let's let His grace and love flow more deeply so that we would extend that same grace and love to the world!
