Walk it Out

“Whatever you did for the one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for Me.” Matthew 25:45

Our book club gathered for supper to discuss the book we were reading: “How to Outlive Your Life” by Max Lucado. The chili and fresh buns were wonderful. We enjoyed our discussion. Max Lucado did a superb job of challenging us to look beyond ourselves. We read out loud the words of Jesus from Matthew 25:34-45…

“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.” Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?”
The King will reply, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” Matthew 25:34-45

We were enjoying our tea when the phone interrupted our pleasant evening. It was a neighbor needing a ride to the hospital emergency room. It seemed no one else was available. I was irritated. We had looked forward to this evening that had been hard to schedule with our busy lives. I didn’t want to leave the table and head out on the winter roads to the hospital a half hour away. It could be a long wait there too. I complained. I felt pressured. I felt less than gracious. And then I realized…

God knows me better than I know myself. It’s easy to sit in the comfort of my home sipping tea, and talking about how we want to serve others as we seek to serve Jesus. Yet when it’s inconvenient, or annoying or challenging the heart gets tested on its sincerity. As we quickly cleared things up and I got ready to leave, we paused to pray for each other and the neighbor.

When we ask God to teach us, He will take us up on it.

By Gail Rodgers
Used by Permission