The Least of These My Brethren

He sits at my table. 

I feed him.

Physical nourishment. 

We feed him the Word. 

He; the downcast. 

Broken.

Struggling with mental illness. 

Trying to find his way in this world. 

He sits at my table. 

I fight the thoughts that permeate my mind. 

My son. 

Buried deep beneath the earth. 

Not at my table; while this one lives. 

Why? 

My son; a hard worker.

So young. 

A lover of God. 

Gone. 

And here. 

At my table the least of these. 

Matthew 25:40

"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.'

I feed him. 

I pray in my heart for the demons that fill him to be gone. 

To receive the medical help he needs. 

This young man.

Each day a struggle. 

The least of these my brethren. 

I bow to the Holy. 

These days belong to the Lord. 

His will above mine. 

His ways. 

Isaiah 55:9

As the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts.

I relinquish my heartache and pain. 

I can not carry it. 

The longing too great. 

The pain crushing. 

I step into the work for today. 

Life on life. 

The gospel.

Life changing. 

Hope.