The Least of These
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I was exhausted. It was the middle of the week before Christmas, and on top of all the things I was planning to do that week, my two-year-old Timmy came down with croup. My husband and I lost sleep with him for two nights in a row, caring for him, listening to his raspy breathing, or worrying about whether we'd need to take him to the emergency room. Timmy had nearly died of croup when he was 11 months old. We'd gotten him to the emergency room just in time to save his life. And now he had croup again—at Christmas!
I looked wearily over my kitchen table, cluttered with ingredients and utensils for baking cookies. I'd offered to make a bunch of Christmas cookies for my husband to take to his business meeting. Last night, I hosted a birthday party for my oldest daughter. And the day before that, I prepared dishes of food for a funeral meal. Now tonight was another Christmas party for my husband's best friend who was back in town from out of state. I was supposed to make a couple dishes for that, and go with my family. My going, obviously, was now out of the question, with Timmy sick with croup. My husband could go, of course, I thought bitterly.
Husbands' plans keep going whether children are sick or not. Husbands can go to parties anyway, because it's the wives who have to stay home and take care of the sick children. I'd had to stay home from the same Christmas party two years before for the same reason—sick children.
I'd worked hard to make all the cookies and pies and dishes of food for all the goings on lately, but guess who got to eat them? Not me! Guess who got to enjoy the parties? Not me! I had to stay home with a sick child and peer into the refrigerator to try to find leftovers to warm up.
Timmy has the croup. Mommy can't go to the party, I thought. I knew I was sinking into self pity, and wasn't sure how to get out of it.
"Lord," I prayed, "Please help me! I don't want to feel this way."
After a few moments, I felt the Lord remind me, Didn't you ask me for someone special to help this Christmas season?
Yes, I remembered. It was always my prayer to help somebody truly needy, and when several weeks before I'd asked the Lord for such an opportunity this year, I'd wondered if it wouldn't be someone close to home. But my little boy? It didn't seem like "helping others" just to stay home and take care of my two-year-old sick with croup. He was the same child I took care of all the time. There wasn't a lot of heroism in that. No stars, crowns, bells, whistles, or angel wings.
Inasmuch as you have done it unto the least of these, you have done it unto me, the Lord reminded me of his words in Matthew 25:40.
The least of these—my own little boy. I was the only one who could minister to Timmy like he needed the most, for it was Mommy he needed. When he choked and coughed and could hardly breathe, it was to me he ran, just like Jesus as a boy must have run to Mary when he needed comfort or care.
Related Topics:
Sacrifice, Service
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Average User Rating:
Cheryl(Registered User)
I appreciated this perspective. It's hard to feel significant, but Ephesians 2:10 and Philippians 1:6 remind me that God has plans specifically for me and they are still just as important when they're in my own home.
Susan Wegpye
Anna, Thank you. I am reminded to be more patient with my own children not only when they are sick but daily because really, they are the least of them, with or without croup. God bless you. Susan
Pilar Gracia
Dear Anna: Thank you for sharing your heart through that article on your son Timmy, because the Holy Spirit´s gentle tug reminded me that RIGHT now, the only person that can minister my 79 year old Mom, after we lost Dad a month and a half ago, its me. "The least of them" ALWAYS starts at home first. In Jesus, Pilar
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