Time & Space

This year marks our 5th Spring Break to head to south Georgia.  We make this trip with a family that is very dear to us and enjoy the "nothingness" as much as we relish it.  This year may have been our best trip yet.  The kids are getting a little older and seem to not need our immediate attention as much as in times past.  But God lavished us with gorgeous weather.  In previous trips we have dealt with pouring rain or cold temperatures.  Spring met us with a gentle handshake and a sweet hello.  The days were beautiful with sunshine and breezes that kept mosquitoes away.  Other than meals and bedtime....we soaked up as many moments as possible outside.  Time is slow in this place and space is vast.  It is the perfect place for one's soul to rest.

 I love that Shep captured this picture of me and Zeke.  He almost always had this bow in his hand. We were walking down the runway to retrieve his arrows.  Can you see the butterfly it the top of the picture?  Butterflies were everywhere!

 My heart gushes when my Caroline can find an activity that makes her happy and settled.  This particular day it was lying on the edge of a blanket with me and play in the grass...

 Ava was drawn to this log.  She was determined to master the art of running and rolling on the log...

 She was actually better at it than the rest of us....

 Zeke and his buddy chasing their arrows....

 Caroline in the sunshine full of smiles....

 Zeke and Ava taking a break from playing and smiling for a picture.

 We rode around everyday in the back of the truck.  I loved it as a kid and still love it as an adult.

 Ava and her sweet friend were just as fierce as the boys with their bows.

 All the kids posing with Shep on a log at Factory Branch.  Such a terrific day!

 Hello glamor queen.  Isn't she gorgeous?  The girl can rock my sunglasses...

 Me and Zeke posing.  This was rare because the boy stayed on full throttle the entire trip.

 Shep and Caroline went down stream a ways to capture the rest of us in front of the waterfall.

 Shep talked the kids into having a stick race.  They loved it!  No electronics involved!

 Me and my squeeze.  I am crazy about him. 

 Shep gave me some pointers about shooting the bow.  It was oddly more fun than I imagined it would be.  There was something almost therapeutic about aiming, shooting, and retrieving....

 Ava and her daddy searching the ground for arrowheads....

 Zeke and Shep killing time...with Zeke's bow...of course.

 The first morning turkey hunt.  Zeke loved it.  Pretty sure he is hooked.

 Ava's search paid off.  She found this beautiful arrowhead and she couldn't have been more pleased with herself.

 One of the dearest people in the whole world to me.  My friend that I call "D".  She is such a sport. Her effort on these trips spoil us all.  She brings her homemade bread and rolls.  AND enough junk food to feed an army.  We somehow manage to suffer through eating most of it...

 Remember Caroline's blanket fun?   This is what her face looked like after playing in the grass.  She wasn't bothered one little bit...

 The kids looking for more arrowheads...

 Me and him. 

 Caroline enjoyed the wide open spaces too....she especially loves putting her teeth into my shoulders when she is in the snuggli.  Little stinker.

 Lots and lots of moments just like this.....smiling.

 Zeke, Ava and their friend waiting for their turn on the vine swing...

 Ava taking her thrill ride....

 Zeke swinging high in the woods too.

 Shep was not going to be left out of this fun....you can't tell it but they were a good 30 feet or more in the air!

 Me and Ava riding in the bed of the truck...

 More smiles from Caroline.

 Zeke again with the bow.

 Caroline got to enjoy walks in the wood too.  She got the royal treatment of being carried by daddy and Mr. Derrick.

 Ava and R.

Our family on the runway.

I prayed and asked God to refresh me on this trip.  The trip was not without difficulty.  Caroline doesn't sleep well and she had several tough nights that were hard on Shep and I.  But God did answer my prayer.  This entire trip was His gift to me.  It was like 3 days of solid sanctuary for my soul.  He led us away from our hectic lives to a place where His beautiful creation both thrilled and stilled our anxious hearts.  Only God.  He IS GOOD.

Falling IS Normal

(pic of 2006 Olympic ice skater Emily Hughes falling...even the best sometimes fall)


I mentioned in my last blog entry that we celebrated Ava's birthday at our local Ice Skating rink.

My mom had taken her once before and Ava had been bitten by the ice skating bug.  She caught on fast and loved it.  Of course she wanted to go back and let me get a taste of the fun.

Roller skating was big fun for me growing up.  But never have these feet dared to venture out onto ice wearing blades.

I was prepared to leave the ice skating rink with bruises on my rear end, elbows, and knees.  So much for being optimistic.  I was going in there ready....to fall.

We got in the rink and I immediately knew that I had under dressed for the occasion.  Next time I will wear gloves and a jacket.  (It is ice after all?!?)

  The ice skates were not as awkward and cumbersome as I imagined they would be.  I was able to walk without looking like a complete idiot.  We all looked ridiculous trying to walk on blades.  Who can possibly pull that off and still look cool?

We made our way out onto the ice and I knew immediately that I needed to stay near the wall. By near~ I mean that I wanted to be touching it at all times. Ava remembered her bravery from her past visit and ventured ahead of me.  At any moment I could reach out and steady myself and I found deep satisfaction in doing so.  After about 3 or 4 laps I began to get the feel of ice skating.  I gradually moved more than 10 inches away from the wall.  After a lap or so of staying close to the wall but not stuck to it....I graduated to the flow.  No longer was I grasping for dear life to the wall....I was now out there with other people ice skating.

It was so much fun.  I found myself smiling and ice skating at the same time.

But here was the kicker...I knew at any moment my feet could slip out from under me and I could fall.  I knew better than to have any false sense of security on this ice.  I was a newbie and newbies are gonna fall. Also everyone around me was falling or close to it.  We were all clumsy people trying to learn.  Falling was the norm.  Oh sure there were the accomplished skaters in the middle doing their turns and spins and jumps. But most of us looked unsteady at best.

I was amazed at the number of near misses that I witnessed.  People just like me would come barreling out of nowhere, flying at high speeds, their hands stretched out willing the wall to come to them.  Then BOOM~ down they would go.

All of us~ even the one down on the ice~ would grin or laugh.  We were all in this together.  Next time it could be me.  

Someone with steadier feet would reach down and give them a hand and help them up. 

As I flowed with the others skaters I felt the Holy Spirit nudge me.  It was odd timing....but He always has something to say if our spiritual ears are listening.

He simply said to my heart, "Look around this rink.  What do you see?"  

I just looked.  I let my eyes linger on people for a few laps.

Then I realized what it was....everyone here either fell down or was afraid they were going to.  So grace and space were given and offered by everyone in the place.

In spite of everyone's fear of falling the atmosphere was fun and light.  No one got angry with the newbies. No one made fun of anyone else.  There was equal respect on that ice.  Even the advanced folks remembered their newbie days.

The ice was our common denominator.  We were all on it.  We were all trying our best to stay upright.  We all were a quick slip from falling and busting our tails.

Then the Holy Spirit nudged again, "This is the way church should be.  Grace and space.  Everyone on equal footing....a slip away from falling."

Sometimes I am so saddened by the way we act at church.  We act like falling isn't a normal part of living.  It is.  We aren't supposed to cover it up.  We aren't supposed to stay on the ground.  We are supposed to take the hand of help offered to us and get on with it.  There are spins and jumps and turns to learn but getting there will be a journey of falls and bruises.  No one should be surprised or embarrassed to fall.

There was such freedom in that Ice Forum.

I loved it.

Falling was normal.  But getting up was too.

I pray that my own church would be a place of this kind of freedom.  Newbies, intermediates, and advanced skaters all giving each other grace and space to live and be what God is calling them to be.  When someone falls~ offer them a hand of help up on their feet again.  Their pace won't be the same as your own.  But smile as your go by....because your next turn could be the moment you slip and fall too.  

Ecclesiastes 4:9-10
Two are better than one,
    because they have a good return for their labor:
If either of them falls down,
    one can help the other up.
But pity anyone who falls
    and has no one to help them up.

In Between

 In between our oldest daughter, Caroline and our youngest son, Zeke is Ava Ruth.  She celebrated her 9th birthday on St. Patrick's Day.  I told her just today that her role as our middle child is a lot like the creme inside an Oreo cookie.  She is our sweet center and makes our family better.  She really liked that analogy.  She has the unique position of being buddies with both of her siblings while Zeke and Caroline aren't as close with each other.

This year she opted for an ice skating trip with me and two other little friends from school and their moms.  Plus she  is getting a trip to the American Girl Doll store sometime soon.

Her birthday sometimes gets caught up in the hustle and bustle of school and schedule conflicts.  But she is a sport and understands that life inevitably can't stop just because birthdays come around.  This year my dad was in the hospital due to a potential heart scare (thankfully he is all well and back home).  Ava hated that her Grand-daddy was in the hospital but she really hated that it was on her birthday.  I think it was a good opportunity for God to show her the importance of putting others first even when the day is about celebrating you!

Ava is such a bright spot in our lives.  It seems like I have only blinked and she has somehow landed in the 3rd grade.  She loves people.  She loves one on one time.  She is learning the art of dancing beautifully in ballet.  She loves to sing and participates in chorus at school.  She could eat her weight in ice cream and she loves to go without socks......my horrible influence.

But what first comes to mind about my "in between" girl is her mature sensitivity.  She notices things that a kid her age usually doesn't pick up on.  She sees injustice.  She feels when other people are hurt, left out, or mistreated.  I fear that sometimes she even tries to take it on herself.  She is a natural burden bearer.  I see the ways God is already using this in her little life.  Obviously having a sister that is severely disabled hasn't hurt in this area either.

This brings me to the two sweet moments from Ava's birthday weekend that I have hidden in the depths of my heart.

Moment one occurred on our ice skating trip.  It was close to the end of the evening and our time of ice skating was quickly drawing to a close.  She asked if she and I could hold hands and skate around the rink a few more times.  I reached for her little hand and we took off.  The lights had been turned down and only white twinkling lights danced above us.  I looked down and took her in with my eyes.  The look of littleness is leaving her but traces still remain...and I relish in moments like this.


I said, "Ava I love you.  Happy Birthday baby.  I am so proud to be your mom."

She said, " I love you mama.  This has been the best birthday ever.  This feels so magical."

And it really did.  We continued skating along just holding hands and then she
broke the silence with a brilliant statement that both broke my heart and blessed my soul.

She said, "Mom you know what I wish?"

I shook my head and said, "No honey.  What do you wish?"

"I wish Caroline were here with us."

I could almost cry again as I relive the moment in my mind.  But it was the most selfless beautiful sentiment.  Spoken from the sincere and sensitive heart of my nearly 9 year old.

Moment number two was on Ava's actual birthday.  I had run around like a crazy woman with my SuperMom cape flowing in the breeze.  My dad had a heart cath that morning in a different town but I was determined to be back at the school in time for Ava's lunch with cupcakes for the whole class.  Thankfully the morning clicked along perfectly including good news about my daddy.  So Shep and I both managed to get to the school on time and eat with Ava.  Nearing the end of her lunch break a friend in her class (with the teacher's permission) went and flicked the lights on and off in the lunchroom to get everyone's attention.  Then her friend announced that it was Ava's birthday and that they were gonna sing to her.  So the entire lunch room burst into the latest kid version of Happy Birthday complete with new lyrics added to the end. 

What I haven't told you is that Caroline's special education class eats in the lunchroom at the same time.  This particular day Caroline was seated in her wheelchair with a bib around her chest because her sweet teacher was feeding her some food.

During the Happy Birthday song with a crowded lunchroom peering on Ava stood beside Caroline and held her hand the entire time.   

A lot of kids are embarrassed by wheelchairs, drool, bibs and the like when they are nine years old.

But Ava showed no sign of embarrassment whatsoever.  Just love.

Her place in our family is strongly felt and equally needed.

She's a perfect fit in between.

A Kept Woman

We sing a song at church that repeats the phrase, "Keep the Faith."

Other times people will use that phrase as some type of encouragement or knock-around filler when they don't know what to say.

I totally get the phrase.

I even get why people say it.

We are to keep believing.  Keep hoping.  Keep on walking the walk.  Yada yada.

But isn't this a little backwards?

God was the initiator of relationship with man from the very beginning.  Our very existence is because He thought of us first.  He formed man with His hands and made us into His image. We couldn't live unless He hadn't first gotten involved.

And faith is given by God.  I can't just get faith on my own.

Like the unbelieving father that cried out, "I do believe.  Help my unbelief" we are dependent upon His power in us to exert faith.

Growth and maturity in Jesus through reading God's Word and intimate prayer time broadens our capacity to believe God for even more. 

But, again, He pursues us.  Relationship with us was His idea.  (We just reap the benefits)

So even our growth and maturity is His idea.

Making the time and putting forth the effort may fall upon our human volition but the drawing of the Spirit upon our hearts is His invitation.

This absolutely blesses the heart of a weary follower of Christ.

I love Jesus so much.

My heart almost can't contain the love His has bestowed upon me.

But what ministers to me in a world of constant bombardment of do more....work harder...strive longer....is that He keeps me.

I can only "keep the faith" because He keeps me.

I am a kept woman.

Great security flows from that little phrase.

These verses are rich and extravagant in meaning to me.  I Peter 1:3:5 state this truth so much better than I ever could.  We tend to veer away from the King James Version but this translation is ageless and beautiful.

 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,
⁴ To an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you,
⁵ Who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.

Never Have I Ever...

imagined myself where I was today.

Today was a day that I have been dreading on the calendar for a long time.

Up until this month I have chosen to bury my head beneath the proverbial sand and pretend that today didn't exist.

I seriously never ever thought this would be something I would have to endure.

What is it?

Well what is big to me probably sounds silly or trite to you.

But this is my life.  So silly or trite...it is big to me.

Today Shep and I sat in a meeting with teachers from Caroline's Elementary school and a couple of teachers from the Middle School she will attend next year.

Maybe you missed that.  MIDDLE SCHOOL.

This was huge in my head.  And catastrophic in my heart.

When God told us almost 12 years ago to believe Him to heal our girl and that He would indeed heal her....I never ever planned on being here.....for this long.

As I thought about her growing up I could see her in middle school but it wasn't like this.

Not in a wheelchair.  Not with a feeding tube.  Not wearing diapers. 

But today happened.

I really did sit through that meeting and it didn't kill me.

If God were to show us the entire journey before we take the first step....I don't think we would go.

The strength needed for today has been supernaturally granted in the steps taken for 11 plus years leading up to today.

That is how God works.

A step at a time.  The step that proceeded prepared you and the same will be true for every step taken along the way....His way.

I had a mound of faithful friends and family praying for us today.  I confessed the broken heart of a mother and they plowed forward in faith on my and Shep's behalf. 

This dreaded day has come and gone. Yet here I sit typing a synopsis of all that I feared.

God delivered.

He brought me through what I never thought I could handle.

His ways are so mysterious.

His thoughts toward me so vast.

Today was necessary for reasons I may not yet know.

But I trust the One who will make a way....where I see no way.

Ps. 56:3  "When I am afraid, I will trust in You."

Me and God at Midnight

My faith is real but it is also really flawed at times.

I get caught up in trying to bargain with God.
Or I care about how others view me more than He does.
Or I hold a list up to Him of my good works....forgetting that my best is filth.

But, at the heart of it, my faith is real.

I really know that God can do anything.
I really know that the Bible is completely true...a donkey spoke, a sea was parted, a dead man came out of a grave (er...more than one), oozing leprosy really did go away revealing fresh new skin, ears once deaf heard the bird's singing, eyes dimmed from nothingness opened to a new world never seen, and people bound to lie down upon mats, utterly dependent on others for help,  really did stand up on strong legs.

And these are just a few of the events we know about.  The Word says that there are many more not even written down. (Jn. 21:25)

God has graciously opened my eyes and my heart to yearn to live the kind of life that depends upon Him.

But that life is one of constant struggle.  Believing what my eyes see is much easier to do...and much more popular.

Caroline turns 12 years old this June.  She starts middle school next year.  Yet....she remains the same.  She is precious and smart and funny and sassy.  But the healing has not come.  I live each sunrise and each sunset with both the hope that it could be the day and the realization that it wasn't.

I can hear most of your thoughts.  I think it too.

"Ummm don't you think you heard wrong??  If God hasn't healed her yet...He probably isn't going to."

Remember the constant struggle.  There it is.  My. battle.

Shep tells me all the time that just because God hasn't yet isn't a good enough reason to believe He won't. 

I revisit this with God often.

"Did you really say this to us?"

Every time.....I mean every single time....He confirms it again.

But something has happened inside my heart.

I have sensed it over time.  A slow numbness lurks there.

If I wasn't entirely sure that this was true it was affirmed to me just last week.

One of my best and dearest friends in all the world bought a book for me to read.  She was excited for me to read this book.  She had read it and loved it.  It is Christian fiction but a powerful story of people believing God for the impossible.

I read the book at a snail's pace.  It wasn't a hard or boring read.  It was just the opposite.

I didn't want it to end.

But, like all books, it did end.

The story was powerful.

But my numbness was exposed.

I have become that girl with a protected heart.

I know without a doubt that God can.

But so many days, weeks, months, and years have eroded the fervor that once flourished.

Now I just get up wondering if He will.

I used to know that He could and He would.

See the difference?

That Christian fiction was used in the hands of an Almighty God to throw cold water in my face.

I finished the book just past midnight last Wednesday.

Not wanting to wake my husband I fumbled into the bathroom and closed the door because I knew God was waiting....

I got down on my knees and sobbed the cries of a cold heart.

I didn't have much to say to Him except, "This book has awakened a place in me that wants to die.  God I believe You.  I believe You can do the impossible...but You haven't.  It is just easier to bury these feelings and not deal.  But I don't think I am as useful in Your kingdom when my faith is functional but lacking in fervor.  Oh God bring it back.  Reignite the fire in my bones.  Give me more faith to persevere.  Give me a warm heart to feel each day."

 That was it.

Our meeting was short and sweet but entirely necessary.

A cold heart does little to affect a cold world.

It is slow coming....but this heart of flesh is daring to feel again.

"And I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart."  Ezekiel 36:26

 

The Prison. The Women. Our Privilege.

I returned home from my fourth mission trip to St. Vincent island last Thursday afternoon.

Almost a week has passed.  Coming home to a husband and 3 children who have been snowed in for days was culture shock.

I was exhausted from the entire mission trip experience and a bit worn down.  If you have ever done mission work you know that sleep is lost.  But laundry, dentist visits, grocery shopping and everything else doesn't wait on me to get caught up on sleep.  I had to jump back into routine with very little down time except for the 3 flights home which were not stress free to say the least.

So....I am still processing.  Still relishing.  Still remembering.  Still reflecting on ALL that God did on that tiny island to astound and amaze us.

He showed Himself in tiny ways....like providing a black flip flop when another team member's black flip flop came apart and she desperately needed a shoe.

He showed Himself in big ways...His Presence and His Power and His Resources were more than we could bear at times.  The most magnificent way God showed Himself was His favor upon us.

I mentioned in my pre-trip post that this mission would be different for me.  No step by step outline.  No VBS plan to adhere to.  A blank canvas that God Almighty would paint using broken people to make a masterpiece.

This trip had lots of variety.  It was fun and exhausting and heart wrenching all at the same time.

We ministered to the body of Christ.  We ministered to the worn out, the beat down, and those doing most of the ministry work.  We went into a school.  We went into a make-shift daycare.  We painted walls in the hospital as a service to the people.  We encouraged through the Word, through songs, through testimonies, through hugs and fellowship.  Everything we did, all that way spoken, and all that we touched was done in the name of Jesus.

He went before us and made the way...we were literally along for the ride.

One particular visit on the schedule was for the girls to visit the women's prison. 

A precious contact from the island had asked if we could go and visit the women there. 

We were excited.  We were scared.  We had no idea what to expect.

No cameras were allowed.  A dress code was enforced and rules were given to us.

-We were not allowed to touch the women.
-We were not allowed to give the women any items.
-We had a strict time limit of 1 hour.

The mood was odd among us girls.  Everywhere else we had ventured held an air of expectancy and excitement. 

Not here.  There is nothing light, exciting or expectant about prison.

It is the opposite.  It feels heavy...hopeless and even void of life.

Walking into that prison, through those gates and down those steps on the side of a jagged rock into a wooden holding area covered in chicken wire was terrifying.  We acted brave.  But we were utterly dependent upon the Holy Spirit of God. 

"What would a group of spoiled white American mission girls possibly have to offer these women?"

We didn't know.  But we knew we had to go.  We knew Jesus would guide us...

As we entered we saw several (7) women seated on the far side of the room.  A table stretched across the middle of the room and we were told to sit on the side of the room across from the women. 

The table was between us and it felt like a literal barrier.

I don't know what happened to me but mercy began to ooze out of me leaving its trails upon my cheeks.  Tears were flowing and no one had spoken a word yet.

~Awkward.~

I felt so stupid.  The last thing I wanted to do was embarrass these ladies.  But the tears did not stop.  I tried to turn my head and wipe them away quickly without drawing attention.

The ladies introduced themselves to us.  They told us their name, age, birthplace, job, and about their families.  As they spoke they became real people with real stories.  Pride welled up as they spoke of their children or grandchildren and tears trickled down their faces as well.

Once they introduced themselves...it was our turn.  They listened to us as we told them our names, ages, jobs, and about our families.  They would even clap as we talked about how many times we had been to their island.

We then asked them if they had specific requests that we could pray for them.  They all asked for us to pray for one of the women who had severe stomach issues.

At this point we turned and asked the warden and guards if we could cross the table and touch the ladies to pray for them.

The answer was "yes". (God's favor)

I am surprised that we didn't knock the table over.  We bolted across simply because we couldn't wait to hug their necks and hold their hands.

It sounds a little weird now but in that place it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Once we were all together we prayed over the woman with stomach issues.  We boldly asked in faith for God to touch and heal her.  Then we separated.  There were 8 of us and 7 of them.  We took the opportunity to minister individually.  I sat at the feet of a beautiful 22 year old girl.  I listened to her story.  I memorized her face.  I heard her fears and saw her despair.  I prayed over her.  I spoke hope looking into her eyes and silently begged God for her to absorb His Presence that was with us.

We had brought bibles with us even though we were told we couldn't give them to the prisoners.  The warden watched us ministering to these ladies one on one and allowed us to give each woman a bible (God's favor) and to write them a personal message inside.

Time was drawing near for us to have to leave.  We felt it and the warden wasn't going to budge on that rule.

We had about 15 minutes left and the ladies wanted us to sing.

We asked them to teach us some songs.  One of the ladies (the roughest one of the bunch) played a drum that kind of sounded like a bongo and lead us in two worship songs.

It may have been the purest form of worship I have ever experienced.

There was no show.  No stage.  Nothing special...except Jesus.  Fifteen women lifted their voices high in song to their Master and Maker.  They were in prison but their souls praised from a place of freedom.

Any way that I try to describe these precious moments seem to diminish how powerful it really was.

I will never forget it.

Jesus was there.  I don't think He would have missed it for anything.

We closed our time by singing and speaking declarations of truth from God's Word over them.

Then it was time to go.

We hugged their necks.  We took mental pictures of each of them hoping to remember each detail.  We called them by name and thanked them profusely for welcoming us so warmly.

This pitiful prison became our biggest privilege.

We walked out knowing that we had done exactly as our Lord would have done. 

(Just a side note about the women on our mission team.  They are incredible.  I stole glances around the room and watched as Vanessa, Mande, Cathy, Kim, Cindy, Rebecca, and Annette literally became the hands, feet, and mouthpieces of Jesus Christ.  They wiped tears away.  The bore burdens. They wept as Jesus would have done...
They are all pretty ladies but they almost glowed from the glory of God.  His presence was so thick among us.  I am honored to forever share this experience with them.)

Lord, make us Matthew 25:31-40  kind of people!!!

 “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. All 
the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
 “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.
“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?  When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?  When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.