Tonight at work, I was scrubbing what I have to scrub and cleaning up after people… all of whom treat me as a piece of furniture. Sometimes they run into me. I was not happy about the fact and wondered, what gives them the right to be above me? I know, I am being paid for this- but they could at least thank me, or smile, or something.
Then the still small voice found me. I never realized before how His voice is like the wind “that bloweth where it listeth.” This reached me softly, echoing into my heart- “He came not be served, but to serve.” He served, and that is enough payment to be a drudge for the rest of my life. I, the servant, am not greater than my Master.