The Least

You might expect that being a midwife at a clinic that serves poor families in a 3rd world country, would just be a very rewarding experience. You might think that one would feel like they were were doing amazing ministry everyday. But for me, for the most part I overlook those things. I usually feel like I'm at work, it's good work, but still just work. But every once and a while, I catch a glimpse of the ministry being performed by my hands even when I'm "just working".
A woman labours through the night and as I take my shift in "labour watching", sitting with her, rubbing her back, breathing with her through each contraction, wiping hair and sweat from her face. I feel a moment of realization, I'm labour watching over Jesus. Wiping His brow, speaking encouragement to Him.
And on another night as I gently wash the dried blood off a new mother's body, my mind sees for a second that I am washing the legs and feet of Jesus. And I really truely know it, to the point that in that moment I can only pray, and that even writing this brings me tears.
I'm not writing this because I'm proud of these little things I've done. People do far greater things each and every day. I'm only writing because His words are true, "Whatever we do for the least of these, we do it for Him." And I can go to work and not expect to do or be or find any great thing. I can stare neediness in the face and not respond correctly, caringly and Christianly. That's me, I can do that. But sometimes God grabs ahold of my heart, and opens my eyes and I catch a glimpse of glory. Of worship. Of a God who chooses to be found "in the least of these."