An image: A boy, about 7 or 8 years old. Hair uncombed, face, unwashed. His grimy shirt was too small for him. His shorts keep slipping down, and he hitches them up when it goes dangerously low. His nose drips with ripe snot which he inhales with alacrity. He was barefoot – his feet encrusted with dust and soil. He was one of the kids from the neighborhood of the church. He along with his other siblings attend church activities – the VBS, the Sunday school, and especially during fellowship times, because that means food. That night was Christmas party at the church in my hometown. I noticed him because he was on stage, unmindful of his looks, uncaring if he looked out place. I noticed him because he was singing. He sang in a voice that was more passionate than beautiful. He was offering a prayer song. He sang with his eyes closed. He was singing, “Make me a servant, humble and meek. Lord, let me lift up those who are weak, and may the prayer of my heart always be, make me a servant...” A simple song learned from Sunday School, heard so many times before, and yet at that particular night, at that particular time, it was the sweetest, truest prayer ever sang.
Humble and meek.
Servant.
This boy, who knew nothing but hardship of life, who knew nothing of receiving a brand new toy on Christmas, who has not felt the texture of new clothes in a long time, who may not have a decent meal, who knew nothing of luxury, nor comfort, who new nothing of power, or the sense of entitlement, or of selfishness, was singing a song that was at the very heart of Jesus’ life and ministry. Here he was- the very image of meekness and humility.
The haughty spirit in me was crushed that night. The arrogant in me was shamed. Tears came unbidden as I was touched to the core by the simple act of this little boy. Because, until I stand grimy, barefoot, and impoverished, I can never really become a servant. I can never really sing it, with eyes closed, until I come to a point of destitution of spirit.
“And may the prayer of my heart always be: Make me a servant, make me a servant today...”
Humble and meek.
Servant.
This boy, who knew nothing but hardship of life, who knew nothing of receiving a brand new toy on Christmas, who has not felt the texture of new clothes in a long time, who may not have a decent meal, who knew nothing of luxury, nor comfort, who new nothing of power, or the sense of entitlement, or of selfishness, was singing a song that was at the very heart of Jesus’ life and ministry. Here he was- the very image of meekness and humility.
The haughty spirit in me was crushed that night. The arrogant in me was shamed. Tears came unbidden as I was touched to the core by the simple act of this little boy. Because, until I stand grimy, barefoot, and impoverished, I can never really become a servant. I can never really sing it, with eyes closed, until I come to a point of destitution of spirit.
“And may the prayer of my heart always be: Make me a servant, make me a servant today...”
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