Jesus-Joy for Breakfast
May my Lord never let me grow cold in my longing to be a cup in His hand for the quenching of His own royal thirst. ~~ Oswald Chambers
A simple thing — a tray of toast. Coffee with cream. Jam and sliced apples. A mason jar of snapdragons.
Brought to her momma on a Saturday morning — brought to one working, who’d not yet recognized a need.
Brought by a girl still with sleep in her eyes, in her pjs. Everything arranged on a tray, just so. Even butter on the toast.
She delivered it all — with a smile and a hug. “For you!” she exclaimed, as though the delivery brought her just as much delight.
Because it did. Being kind most always does. Being the hands and feet of Jesus always does that — stirs joy just below the surface. Below the façade, where other things — not so pleasant — often lurk.
Irritability.
Stress.
Sadness.
Anxiety.
Those joy-killers that, with just a bit of kindness, are dispersed. Sometimes dispelled. Yes, disappear.
And with a bite of toast and several sips of coffee, momma and daughter shared, too, so much more than mere sustenance for the body. They experienced in those moments manna for the soul.
Momma didn’t even know she was in need. She didn’t need to know. It was enough that a child listened to that still, small whisper and obeyed that gentle nudge.
In doing so, her momma was fed with more than food on a tray.
In delivering a simple Saturday meal, the girl met the needy and taught the momma.
It was as though she’d done it onto Jesus.
Indeed, she did — when she served Jesus-Joy for breakfast.
Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these… you did it to Me (Matthew 25:40b — NKJV).
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Sweet?