“When he finally arrives, blazing in beauty and all his angels with him, the Son of Man will take his place on his glorious throne. Then all the nations will be arranged before him and he will sort the people out, much as a shepherd sorts out sheep and goats, putting sheep to his right and goats to his left. “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Enter, you who are blessed by my Father! Take what’s coming to you in this kingdom. It’s been ready for you since the world’s foundation. And here’s why: I was hungry and you fed me, I was thirsty and you gave me a drink, I was homeless and you gave me a room, I was shivering and you gave me clothes, I was sick and you stopped to visit, I was in prison and you came to me.’ “Then those ‘sheep’ are going to say, ‘Master, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry and feed you, thirsty and give you a drink? And when did we ever see you sick or in prison and come to you?’ Then the King will say, ‘I’m telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me.’ (Matthew 25:31-40 MSG)
Thursday, February 20, 2014
51/365 • the least of these
Words fail me today. They can't carry the weight I feel, or the depth of the ache.
I want to remember the smiles on the children's faces, and the warmth of thanks communicated by a grateful smile and a touch on the arm.
I want to remember the boys, probably my own sons age, posing for my photos and asking for just one more snap, and laughing at me counting in Khmer.
I want to remember the little ones, so desperate to experience love, hanging from our arms, marvelling at our white skin. The way we communicated in sign, when there were no mutually understood words.
I couldn't wipe the smile from my face, or swallow the lump in my throat.
The invitation into a home propped up with recycled timber, and corregated iron shelter. The thanks from one mothers heart to my own. I sat on the floor and combed hair, and felt so honoured to be completely welcomed in.
I am undone.
I am undone at the lack of justice. The unfairness.
That these people lack basic human needs.
That there isn't enough food.
That their children are dirty and at risk, and have to work, and collect rubbish for less than $1 pay a day.
That they sleep on the floor.
I am so blessed. And it seems unfair.
"But you can be a blessing" said the quietly spoken, soft hearted Cambodian Pastors wife.
Posted by Em at 11:07 PM