![Picture](/uploads/4/8/6/1/48616497/9010695.jpg?139)
Matthew 25:40 says, in part "Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." When I read this passage, I tend to think of caring for those who are in need--physically, mentally, and/or emotionally.
Lately, however, I have been thinking about what some of these "brothers and sisters" add to our lives. My dad is a great example. He is several years into dementia, cannot express himself well verbally, and rarely knows anyone by name. Some time ago, as my sister realized he did not know who she was and was heartbroken, he reassured her by saying, "I may not know who you are, but I know that I love you." Can you imagine a more pure love? What a gift!
And daily he is a gift to those around him. He is quick to give a smile, often combined with a pointing finger, acknowledging that he recognizes one of the nurses, aides, housekeeping ladies, or others he encounters on a daily basis. When I visit, it's like a rather odd mini vacation. I step away from all of my cares and responsibilities and just allow myself to "be". I get a smile, a hug, and we just hold hands and walk the halls. At lunch, as I help him eat, I think of the ways he helped me in my life, and what a privilege it is to be able to assist him. Then we go for another walk, free from the cares of this world, and experience a perfect example of Paul's lesson on being "content in all circumstances" (Phil. 4:11).
My daughter has a chromosome abnormality. She's developmentally delayed, on the autistic spectrum, and has medical conditions which have caused seizures, a number of broken bones, and other challenges; yet she is another great example of contentment. She wakes up every day excited to find out "who's comin," "where we goin," and "when eatin." She can't wait for "church day" and takes off as soon as she gets there to collect as many fist bumps as she can before heading to her class. Her enthusiasm spreads just as much joy as she receives.
A couple of weeks ago, I saw her approach a friend who was in tears and sharing her grief with another friend because of the loss of her son that week. My first thought was, "Oh no, don't bother them right now." But I was wrong; she brought a smile to their faces with her interruption. The next week, this same friend gave my daughter a knit hat she had made for her that week...the least of these, one who was emotionally in need and one who was mentally in need, ministering to one another and finding joy in the midst.
I have a another friend who has been battling cancer for years, over a decade. How emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausting that must be. But she spreads her "eternal optimism" that comes from a life connected to eternity. She loves worship and has a beautiful smile whenever I see her. Last year her reading of Psalm 23 at our annual women's retreat was nothing short of anointed-- perseverance and courage underlined by faith, that's Carrie. I know there have to be very difficult times of discouragement for her, but she demonstrates that God's grace is sufficient, for his power is made perfect in her weakness (2 Cor. 12:9), and HE shines through her.
If whatever we do for one of the least of these brothers and sisters, we do for Jesus, then perhaps it's no surprise that He should shine through those considered the least of these. As John 30:3 says, "He must become greater; I must become less."
Dementia strips away the mind, chromosome abnormalities can strip away typical mental and physical health, grief strips away our emotional safety and security, and cancer strips away our healthy bodies, but when all else is stripped away, our spirit can remain strong. Sometimes "the least of these" can minister deeply to us, making us aware of our own needs, ones we aren't even aware are there--the need to slow down, be still and know He is God (Ps. 46:10), and allow the joy of the Lord to be our strength (Neh. 8:10).
I am reminded of some lines from Sonic Flood's "When the Music Fades."
When the music fades and all is stripped away
And I simply come... longing just to bring
Something that's of worth that will bless Your heart...
I'm coming back to the heart of worship
And it's all about You all about You, Jesus
May we be encouraged not only to seek out "the least of these" to minister to, but also to strip away ourselves and be brought back to what it's all really about, Jesus.