Hands and Feet

I feel shamefully unqualified to share what I am about to write. Not only because I know so little of it, but even what little I do know I fail to apply more often than not, but it has been rather heavy on my heart lately so I've decided to share.

This summer I have been in and out of hospitals quite a bit to visit my mom, or drop her off for appointments. I had a lot of time observe. Every hospital room has a call button at the patients disposal so should he ever have a need a nurse is available at any time for any reason. They are there to serve, and care. My mom had a particularly caring and attentive nurse during her first few days in the hospital. Her name was Megan. I was deeply touched by her gentleness, compassion and understanding as she cared for my mom those first few days in the ICU. She made me believe that she was there for more than a job and that she would stop at nothing to ensure that my mother received the very best of care. However it was another nurse who really caught my attention, ironically she too was named Meghan, only she was the head nurse of the Neurological ICU. She had somehow heard about my mothers story and how my family works in Brasil as missionaries, so she made it a point to stop by my mothers hospital room and pray for us. I don't know why but I was shocked. Of course lots of people were praying for my mom more than we will ever know on this earth, and of course in a hospital prayer is always needed. Still, I was surprised. As the summer wore on the image of that nurse taking my mothers hand and praying for her, and then continuing about her day performing the not-so-pleasant tasks attributed to the nursing profession was burned into my mind. Those two nurses were the hands and feet of Christ to us.

The phrase What Would Jesus Do comes to mind. How often do I take the time to make a point of serving others. Or more importantly how often do I take the time to reach out to others in need, to be the light I was created to be. I mean what else are we here for, as God's children, if not to be his hands, and feet? I was sitting in my neat and pretty, air-conditioned, comfortable room last night staring at my Oswald Chambers devotional, and Bible when I was filled with an overwhelming need to DO something.  Something, anything. Anything that could somehow convey the depth of the love of Christ to this warped, broken world we live in. To be the hands and feet of Christ to someone else in the same way so many have been to me, especially in these past months. Not necessarily in that exact moment, (which was probably a good thing since I think it was around 1 am) but just in general - that my life might be a living sacrifice to the One who sacrificed himself for me. To do something more than my everyday routines of home and school and play. Something life altering. Something I could dedicate my life to.

The thought occurred to me that if I, if we as the church, are the body of Christ, then we are the face of Christ to the world. How incredibly humiliating that sinners like me should be the picture of Christ to the world. I see what a poor substitute I am in comparison to the One I'm called to portrait. In short I was, and am feeling very convicted. How can I sit here idle as the world wastes away? How can I not do something? How can not I give my everything to use my hands and feet for Him?

Christ has no body but ours,
No hands, no feet on earth but ours,
Ours are the eyes with which he looks compassion on this world,
Ours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Ours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.

Ours are the hands, Ours are the feet,
Ours are the eyes, we are his body.

-St. Theresa of Avila

~Shaela