The face of my savior
Jesus lives in a little two room house with dirt on the floor, roaches crawling over the furniture and a stench of dog and cigarette smoke so strong it will take your breath away. I know this because I saw his face tonight in the face of a little old man from our church. His mind works like that of a ten year old, yet he lives alone in his little house with just Ladybird, his mutt, for company. Tomorrow I am carrying him to have cataract surgery so tonight I stood in his little place trying not to breath while I hurriedly put drops in his eye.
The job was finished and I was heading out the door when I looked into his dirty face and saw how worried he was about tomorrow. I looked in his eyes and didn’t see all of the things that most people see–that I normally see. I saw a man who was afraid and who needed someone, anyone, to speak a kind word to him. It was in that moment that I realized that I was no longer looking at this man whom everyone knows and rolls their eyes when they speak about. I was looking into the face of Jesus as he asked, “Do you love me? Feed my sheep.”
I wish I could say that suddenly the smell was gone and that I no longer thought of the bugs or the dirt, but that would be a lie. What I can say is that moment, when I spoke words of comfort to him, felt like worship.