I told Him about how I live. What I dream about.
What worries me. What I wish for.
The story was dark. Sad.
It’s seemed like there’s no light. It was as if the sky had disappeared. I was really embarrassed.
I was confused. And He was silent. We were silent.
Then He poked me: “You have bread?”
“Yes,” I whispered and felt somehow awkward.
“Not only bread but also butter. Lots of food.”
“Which prison camp are you in? How is the regime? How is the owner? Do they beat you hard?”
I froze. “What kind of camp? I am free. I am in my small house. I am my own boss.
I go where I want to. Now I’m going to a meeting.
I’m listening to a sermon about Your love and grace.”
“How many times have you listened to a sermon about love?” I didn’t see the trick in the question and replied that I had been listening for almost forty years. “Yes, I also read in the Gospel about Your love, my Heavenly Father. After all, I also listen to and watch a lot of sermons on the Internet, I announced proudly.”
Inspiration struck me. I was already ready to declare to the Lord how piously and righteously I live and serve Him, but the word “serve” somehow got stuck between my teeth and did not come out.
And somewhere inside, the thought began to beat me restlessly.
Do I serve or not?
What service do you have? Who do you serve? While I was pondering such worrisome thoughts, the Lord embraced me. He whispered fatherly: “Serve, My child.”
Goosebumps covered my body.
“Remember the prisoners as if you were fellow prisoners, and the sufferers of evil, for you too are still in the earthly body.” Hebrews 13:3.
I froze. Thinking. I have to remember them! But that’s not enough.
I have to do something. Serving is not thinking.
Serving is action! It’s the deeds in the name of Christ.
And for the glory of Christ!
And there are few prisoners here. My brothers are Ukrainians, because now they are in a worse situation than in prison. Bombs rain down on them day and night. And the bodies of the slain are all around. And their houses of worship are in ruins. And there is no bread unless some western liberal throws it at them. And they only get bombs from us. I was horrified. It was getting chilly. And bitter. I will go too, at least I will pray next to my Ukrainian brother. At least I will soften his wounds with oil, just as the Samaritan had mercy on the man beaten by robbers.
Such a thought suddenly occurred. I felt lighter.
Somehow the theology of redemption became clearer. And the Lord smiled. “Go” He said. “Do good deeds in the name of the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”
After all, He is coming soon. And He separates those who prayed from those who worked.
“Then the king will say to those on His right hand: “Come hither, blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world! For I was hungry and you gave Me food, I was thirsty and you gave Me drink, I was homeless and you took Me in, I was naked and you clothed Me, I was sick and you came to see Me, I was in prison and you came to Me.” … And the king answered them, “Truly, I say to you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of Mine, you did for Me.” Matthew 25:34-36,40.
The Lord whispered: “Be brave, my child! Serve! Love people! And don’t whine!”
“He has shown you, O man, what is good; And what does the Lord require of you But to do justly, To love mercy, And to walk humbly with your God?” Micah 6:8.
Author: Yury Sipko / https://www.facebook.com/ysipko
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