was a paragon of faith
mostly because she simply aimed
to be His servant. – Martha Shaw
The minute I read this quote I thought of two things. First, I recalled customers of mine in my former career in banking. They were, when I knew them, a lovely elderly couple who owned a very successful small business. It wasn’t famous, but it was a good business, they lived well, and yes were wealthy. They were, though, simple people who dressed plainly and wore clothes from a typical department store. They demanded no special notice. To pass them on the street, you would assume they were two of many elderly folks living in the rather poor to lower middle class city. You’d never think they had millions.
The next thought to pass through my mind was of Mother Teresa. Surely nobody more closely resembled a saint, and long before she went to live with Jesus, than she. Yet, she lived a lowly life in poverty and caring for those the world had passed by, scorned, perhaps climbed over in our quest for something “better.” She, like Jesus, did no such thing. She gave her life to make theirs better.
Here is a simple quote to think about.
If I am wealthy am I based upon that powerful in ways that matter? Perhaps that is difficult to answer as stated since it depends on what one considers to truly matter. Are my words, my talents, my spiritual gifts, reliant on wealth as the world views it in order to be shared? A question was posed in the Bible . . .
“What good can come from . . . ” Fill in the blank as you choose but true wisdom comes from Jesus and His love. So, how does that change our potential point of view?
Mother Teresa said “Today it is very fashionable to talk about the poor. Unfortunately it is unfashionable to talk with them.”
So, poverty, which comes in many forms, does seem to change the way this world perceives us. I could bury my head in the sand spiritually, behave very badly and very publicly, and author a poorly written book which will make me wealthy financially. Does this change anything?
Jesus said blessed are the poor. As this world sees it, Mother Teresa was poor indeed. How tragic would it be if her words, her prayers, her heart had been silenced because her true wealth and power which came from Him didn’t measure up this side of heaven?
Love this quote! I am so excited to agree with her words. It is such an honor to be His pencil and to be chosen to serve. A pencil can express words from the heart of the one who holds it, but can do nothing on its own. It is fragile and needs care as only the hand holding it can give. The message it delivers can change the world!
Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love – Mother Teresa –
Think about our lives on a typical day. We don’t change the world. We don’t solve the economic crisis or find a way to world peace, or to cure the common cold. Yet, some do small things with great love as the quote suggests. My late father was one of them. Daddy died a few years back on 9-26 and tomorrow marks the anniversary once more. Daddy never finished school, yet he learned more than most of us by caring to do small things well. He was my hero and not just mine but the hero of most whom he ever met.
Daddy called everyone “Pal” and truly felt everyone was his friend. If anyone was in trouble he’d offer a hand or a word of encouragement. I can recall his going outside and Mom wondering where he’d gone off to. Sometimes, he’d go into the woods and find something to transplant to make the yard look good when Mom looked out the window. Other times he’d hear someone working on a car and grab a few tools and go see if he could help get it started. He was good at that. Didn’t go to fancy schools to learn, but simply bought old cars and learned how they worked and with little money for fancy things or high-priced shops to fix things, he just learned how to do it. He shared what he learned.
He could fix a leaky roof or kitchen sink. He could put a doll’s leg back on when it broke off. He could make a cut on my knee better and dry my tears. He knew just when to pat my shoulder or give a sudden hug. He didn’t know fancy words. He didn’t need them. Not long before his final illness, he and Mom had a “big” anniversary and I made them tee shirts with pictures on them from their wedding day all those decades before. I took them out to dinner at a favorite local place. You know the sort, where everyone knows everyone else? He got up and walked all over the place even into the kitchen so he could show everyone “the shirt my daughter made me.” He pointed to the picture on the front, too. He had Parkinson’s and didn’t move about easily as a rule, but that night he managed. Everyone shared his joy.
At the end he was bed ridden and in the days before he passed, he couldn’t really talk. He couldn’t really do anything anymore. He could barely move at all, yet as Mom and I stood at his bedside, he saw us and did his best to make he weak facial muscles, stiff from the disease, form a smile. I saw Mom’s hand on the side of his bed and noticed him focus on her hand. I saw a look on his face and watched him with great effort slowly nudge that right hand a fraction of an inch at a time and it took quite some time for him to move his hand a few small inches to where her hand lay. He finally made it across the distance and clasped her hand. Twenty minutes to move 3 or 4 inches. ” . . . small things with great love.”
I love you Daddy!