“A servant always has a loving heart and working hands. Both the heart and the hands. Not just the heart of a servant who sees the needs of others. Not just a heart who feels the pain of those who lost their homes to the hurricanes. Not just a heart who empathizes with those who have lost their jobs, income and insurance. Servants always have good, loving and generous hearts, but they also have hands to do the dirty work. Hands that clean up the tables. Hands that do the dishes. Hands that actually help people in their needs.”
God has begun answering my prayer by making me more of a servant and showing me how I would rather be the Master and call the shots rather than take orders I don’t like. God always mortally wounds my pride–pride I don’t know I possess until I am awakened to its presence by its shrieks of death that result from it receiving God’s death blows. If you were to peek behind the veil of my soul, you’d see pride splattered all about and the Lord cleaning up the bloody mess. The Lord, who is truly the servant of all, is cleaning up my mess. He is cleaning me. Here I see the Lord again, being the servant of all, serving me, a most undeserving child.