Will You Let Me Be Your Servant?

Last evening, during our time of fellowship, Jeff washed Steve's feet, as we remembered Jesus's service to His disciples during the Last Supper. It reminded me of a hymn, Will You Let Me Be Your Servant? Here are the words...

Will you let me be your servant, let me be as Christ to you?
Pray that I might have the grace to let you be my servant, too.

We are pilgrims on a journey, we are trav’lers on the road.
We are here to help each other walk the mile and bear the load.

I will hold the Christ-light for you in the night time of your fear.
I will hold my hand out to you, speak the peace you long to hear.

I will weep when you are weeping, when you laugh I'll laugh with you.
I will share your joy and sorrow till we've seen this journey through.

When we sing to God in heaven, we shall find such harmony,
Born of all we've known together of Christ's love and agony.

I find for me, it's often harder to let someone be my servant than it is to pour myself out in service for them. I discovered this when I was sick with mono in May/June of 2000 (it's not the only time I've had to learn the lesson, but one of the more memorable times!). I remember how hard it was for me to let my friends from church come over to clean my bathrooms (without me scrubbing the toilets first) or to let someone (Jacqueline Cobb) do my laundry (without taking out the dirty underwear first). How silly is that!

When the time came for us to leave San Diego, I realized that the women I felt closest to and had the hardest time leaving were the ones that I had allowed into my life to serve me. At our going-away party, I was sad to leave so many dear friends--but I think I cried the most when I said goodbye to Melina Herrera; and she was definitely one of the women who had seen me at my worst (and seen my toilets at their worst!). In fact, shortly after I had Josiah, there was one day when I broke down (well, actually, more than one day)...and Jeff knew I needed help--female help. So unbeknownst to me, he called Melina, and she came right over to clean my house and do anything else she could to help me. I remember sitting on the couch in the living room when she walked in the door...and at first, I felt embarrassed that she saw my milk-stained clothes and tear-stained face...but then as she hugged me and I cried, I was so very glad that she had come. I know that my heart bonded to hers in a special way--because she served me.