Bend Low

My daughter just sent me a remarkable blog of a young woman her age named Katie Davis. Katie lives in Uganda and cares for (and is in the process of adopting) 13 girls. Truly remarkable and inspiring. Below is her latest posting: She begins with "Around here, we live bent low."

Tuesday morning ladies from Masese stream through my front door. We have moved our weekly meeting from the slum of Masese to my living room because I have been up all night with new foster baby and can’t imagine getting all 14 of these little people out of the house. Excited about a change of pace and my sweet friends in my home, I enlist the help of darling Tamara and 13 eager little girls to give these ladies pedicures. We wash and we rub and we paint. I rub lotion into old scarred feet and think of the journeys they have traveled. I whisper thanks for the ways they have blessed me and the things they have taught me, and here in a puddle on the hard tile floor, Joy overflows.

It is on this same cold, smooth tile that I kneel hours later, face inches away from the burn on Makerere’s calf. The stench doesn’t even bother me anymore. And while it looks horrific to outside eyes, I remember what it looked like months ago and ever so slowly, I can see the healing. I can see the healing in the blood red life that spills out as I bandage and in the smiling eyes that tell me stories as I work. Laying on my belly with a surgical blade I scrape out the dead and do my best to preserve the new pink tissue that is starting to form around the edges. He laughs and says, “I have told you now all the stories I have! It must be your turn.” And I tell him a story of a Heavenly King born as a pauper and of a Body broken for me and for him and for each one of us. And I don’t even realize but there are tears on the tile and I sit astonished that messy, inadequate, ungraceful me would get to share such a story.

We sit in the dirt, not worried about the red stains and serve 400 plates of food to sponsored children on Saturday. I look into these faces and remember them nearly 4 years ago, destitute and hopeless and starving. Afraid of my funny white skin. We feed them lunch and we feed them God’s Word and we watch them transform. We feel like family now, no one noticing these skin differences. The suns rays beat down the glory of God and covered in mud and chicken broth I know that this is contentment.

Our family sits on the street corner down town sharing ice cream and laughter. My daughter bends low to offer a homeless man her popsicle and as he cries that no one cares about him she looks straight into his face. “We will be your family,” she asserts, and she means it. We kneel on the pavement and we pray and people stop to look but we hardly notice because we were made for this.

We bend.

I bend to sweep crumbs and I bend to wipe vomit and I bend to pick up little ones and wipe away tears. I bend over a big pot of stew and I bend to fold endless laundry and I bend over math books and spelling sentences and history quiz corrections. And at the end of these days I bend next to the bed and I ask only that I could bend more, bend lower.

Because I serve a Savior who came to be a servant. He lived bent low. And bent down here is where I see His face.

He lived, only to die.

Could I?

Die to self and just break open for love.

This Savior, His one purpose to spend Himself on behalf of messy us. Will I spend myself on behalf of those in front of me?

And people say, “Don’t you get tired?” and yes, I do. But I’m face to face with Jesus in the dirt, and the more I bend the harder and better and fuller this life gets. And sure, we are tired, but oh we are happy. Because bent down low is where we find fullness of Joy.

Praying for you as you bend today for whoever is in front of you. He will meet you there.

So inspiring! So convicting! How quick am I to "bend low?" Rather, I want to assert my rights. Defend my cause. Stand up for myself and for those that I love. I desire to be served rather than to serve. How willing are we to spend ourselves on behalf of others--especially others who are unlovely or undeserving or ungrateful? Are we willing to bend low--with our Saviour--in service and love and joy--refusing to count the cost? How stubborn our pride can be! How hard to kill that desire to be elevated and catered to and acknowledged! How hard to die to ourselves.

But, it is in bending low that we experience the abundant life of Christ--for that is where He is, ever bending low, loving, saving, serving, sacrificing, redeeming. So Lord, help us this day to be willing to bend low for You. I am reminded of the story I heard long ago about our minister going to the visit the supposed birth place of Christ in Bethlehem. He explained that because the entrance was so small and so low to the ground, the only way to enter the small space where Christ was born was to bend low, almost on one's knees. And so too, all who want to worship our King, must be willing to humble themselves, humble their pride and bend low to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

What a reminder that this is a daily call of Christ--bend low! Bend low with Him as you love and serve your family. Bend low with Him as you submit and obey and seek the low place. Bend low as you love those He loves and died to save. Bend low and serve. Bend low and love. Bend low and die to selfishness and pride. Bend low and trust. Help us Lord to bend low! And to God be the glory.