The Least of These

The year 2001 was a bittersweet year for me. I had three kids under the age of four and one on the way. Towards the end of July, I left my ex-husband in order to protect the kids. He had heavily involved himself in a lifestyle that was not conducive to raising children and we were no longer safe living with him.

I arrived in Ohio with $600 in my pocket, no job and really no means of getting a job due to the pregnancy. Even though I had a college degree, we ended up on food stamps and medicaid and we were living with my mom, an arrangement that would last almost two years to the date. My mind was reeling with the speed in which my life had spun out of control. I stabilized the kids to the best of my ability and began to trust God to provide for us in ways I had never had to trust him before.

I began attending a church that was started by my cousin and some friends of his. They wanted to give me a baby shower. We received diapers of all sizes since some of the kids were still in them all day. We received clothes, food, a highchair, etc. It was such a nice and unexpected gesture and it spoke to my heart. God was taking care of us.

Over the course of the next year, diapers would mysteriously appear on Mom's porch. Gift cards with no return addresses arrived in the mail. A beloved uncle sent a check faithfully, every month for two years. I accidentally left the car unlocked one night and the next day there was a bag of coats and clothes that someone left in it.

By the following July, the divorce was final. Though child support and a small amount of alimony was court ordered, we did not receive any. We survived on the food stamps, Mom's generosity, my uncle's generosity, my Dad's generosity, the $600 I arrived with and the small amount of cash assistance I received for three months after the baby was born. No matter what the expenses were, somehow God always provided for us and I never went below that original $600.

The baby had medical problems. She was born with a soft palette cleft and my 20 month old had experienced failure to thrive when she was five months old due to a mysterious metabolic disorder that was never properly diagnosed as well as a 5mm hole in her heart. She was not walking yet and had low muscle tone which made it even worse. Because of these problems, we had either a doctor's appointment or some form of early intervention at the house on an average of every third day.

The baby was diagnosed with a nerve hearing loss at 11 weeks old, was fitted for hearing aids and was regularly wearing them by three months. She had chronic ear infections due to the cleft. She played baby Jesus in the Christmas program and promptly spit up on Mary. I don't think ten-year old Mary was all that impressed. For that matter, I'm pretty sure the wise men all yelled, "Eewwww!!!! GROSS!!!" and I'm fairly certain that was not in the script.

Through it all we were learning to put all trust, all hope in God. When we get to the end of ourselves we find Him in everything. I was asked to give my testimony on the last Sunday of the year in 2001. I immediately declined stating that I was not a public speaker among other excuses. My cousin harassed, I mean encouraged (hi Brad!) me over the course of a couple of weeks and I finally conceded that maybe, perhaps, I might be able to write something and he could read it. He agreed.

As that Sunday drew closer, I could not settle my spirit or find the words that I needed to convey the gratitude and love I had seen in tangible ways since my arrival back in Ohio the previous July. The thought of standing in front of 150 people and talking made my stomach hurt. I had no topic and a severe case of writer's block; something that I had never experienced before. I was informed I would need to do a sound check. My cousin just kind of laughed when I said he didn't need to do a sound check on me when he would be reading my testimony.

The night before I was supposed to do this, I still had no idea what to say, how to say it or how to write it. I went to my sister's house to use their computer. I played with my nieces and nephews and eventually everyone went to bed. Everyone but me. At 4:30am I churned out "The Least of These" and went home to bed. At least I had something to give my cousin.

Mom and I got up and got the kids ready for church. We only lived about two minutes away and that was if we had to wait for traffic. When I got there, my cousin asked for my testimony and then laughed when I said I didn't have a thing written except for this poem so I guessed I would have to get up there and wing it. To say that I was scared would be an understatement and I also wondered what God thought about me "winging it" on Sunday morning.

There were three people giving testimonies that day and I was the last one up. When I walked up there I was not prepared for the bright spotlight nor was I prepared to be unable to see anyone because of it. The light was so bright it was like I was up there all by myself. I said, "Wow! It's bright up here! I hope someone is out there because I can't see you." I heard some laughter so I guessed all was well. I said that I was not a public speaker and made some other stupid remark and they all laughed again which made me much more comfortable.

I gave a little background into the events that precipitated us moving back to Ohio and then I began reading Matthew 25:31-46. Or at least I tried to read it. Each time I started, my voice caught and I could not get the words out. I started this passage three times and each time it was the same thing. I was crashing and burning in front of a whole bunch of people. Or so I thought. What I realized at some point was that there was an awesome and tangible presence of Jesus in the auditorium that day. If we could see the Holy Spirit with our humans eyes, I remain convinced He would have been visible. At some point, I was finally able to read the scripture and I ended with my version of "The Least of These", written the night before.

The poem was inspired by true events. Years ago, there was a man standing with a "will work for food" sign near where I worked. I saw him there everyday for at least three weeks. One day, I knew I could not drive by him one more time. I decided I'd give him whatever was the smallest bill that I had in my wallet. However, by the time I reached him, I had been prompted to give him all of what I had. There were still a couple of days left until payday and I knew my ex-husband did not have any cash either. If I gave all of it away what would we do? "Are you going to trust Me?" was the reply.

I gave everything I had that day and I never saw the man there again. I looked for him for months afterward, but he never reappeared. I often think of that situation and realize that I probably needed this stranger more than he needed me.

The circumstances surrounding the end of my marriage brought home the reality and truth of doing unto the least of these as unto God. At that time in our lives, the kids and I definitely qualified for "the least". When situations don't look good or it seems as if God has abandoned me, I remember the stranger that needed my help. I also remember the various ways God took care of the needs of my family; sometimes through blood relatives and sometimes through relatives by the blood of Christ and I reminded that whenever we do something to help someone else, we are really doing it for Jesus.


Inspired by true events

"The Least of These"
I saw him standing near the road
his clothes were tattered and torn.
He was dirty and ragged.
He needed a shave.
His eyes looked so forlorn.

It wasn't the first time I'd noticed him there.
He'd been there everyday for a week.
But this time as I quickly drove by
a tear ran down my cheek.

I experienced a tugging at my heart.
I heard a quiet voice within.
Gently prodding, urging me
"Share My love with him."

"But Lord," I prayed, "I don't have much
and it looks like his needs are great.
what can I do to make a difference?
Besides, it's getting late.
I've got places to go and so much to do.
There's orchestra practice tonight
and also practice for the Christmas program.
We've just got to get those cues right!"

His still small voice waited patiently.
He listened to me try to explain
why I couldn't help right then
and that's when it started to rain.

The rain turned to sleet.
The sleet turned to snow.
But I journeyed on
I had places to go.

And then it dawned on me.

"Dear Lord," I prayed, "that man back there
has he no coat that he can wear?
And the sign that he held
said he'd work for food.
Lord please use me for Your own good."

"Go to him dear child and share My love.
He needs to know his Father.
He needs food, a coat and My word.
Others have passed who haven't bothered."

I went back home and found a coat,
took the Bible from it's place on the table.
I ran out the door and hurried to the car
I was ready to do what I was able.

He was still standing there
in the snow
with his sign.
I handed him the cash and the coat.
He whispered, "Thank you ma'am for your time."
His voice caught in his throat.

"My wife is sick. She may even die.
I can't find a job and don't even want to try.
I will never be able to repay you for this.
But thank you for stopping. I hope your life will be blessed."

I handed him the Bible and said, "Please, accept this gift.
I pray that as you read it, your heart will start to lift.
It's the story of our Heavenly Father
who sent His only Son.
To die upon the cross for us.
Which saved us.
Everyone.
From Him we can receive the gift
of everlasting life.
If we repent
of our sin
and live each day
just for Him."

I left the man standing pensively in the snow.
Had I done all I could have?
Quite simply, I didn't know.

And then I heard Jesus' still, small voice speaking ever so softly.
"Whatsoever you do unto the least of these, My child, you do unto Me."

-T. Bent 12/2001