Old Dog V
I Am A Servant In The Master’s House
Bob Neumann
No more than a child i stood at HIS DOOR and knocked. When the DOOR was opened i asked to be allowed to serve and to call HIM MASTER. Upon entering i was fed and i was bathed. I was clothed and given a place to sleep. I was instructed in the rules that governed all that entered HIS HOUSE. I was placed under the authority of other servants who were responsible for both my education and my training. My first duties were simple. And as i successfully learned new skills i was given more duties. And with duty i am held accountable. Over time my work and my attitude proved my status and increased my duties, and my accountability. One day a new servant was placed in my care, and for the first time delegated authority and responsibility were placed on my shoulders. No longer was i accountable for my own work, but that of another.
Over time more authority was delegated and my stewardship began. No longer was i just a servant eating at my MASTER’S TABLE. Now i am a symbol of my MASTER for i carry HIS AUTHORITY. The food i eat is HIS, the clothing i wear is HIS. For over time that which was “i” has become HIS…. and being HIS man and not my own is all to gain for self is replaced with HIS…. Over time my thoughts have become HIS THOUGHTS. My desires no longer concern myself, but HIS PLEASURE. My only goal is to please HIM. HIS HOUSE is what i live for. HIS WILL dictates everything in my life. When my MASTER is concerned, i am worried. when my MASTER is content, i am happy. When my MASTER is sad, i grieve. When my MASTER laughs, i celebrate. When my MASTER is struck, i bleed. when my MASTER is angry, i am enraged. And when my MASTER IS PLEASED, i am fulfilled.
A hireling works for daily pay. A day in the fields, a season in the pastures, a harvest in the vineyard. Whoever will pay has their attention for a moment. Going from day to day they have no one requiring their obedience or their loyalty. Many call this freedom. But i am a servant, not a hireling. A servant is as much a part of the MASTER’S HOUSE as the lumber and nails, brick and mortar of the HOUSE itself. Service is not given for wages of coins of gold or silver. Service is given for a position in HIS HOUSEHOLD. Wherever a servant goes they do not see the man, but THE MASTER’S livery that the servant wears. so they know they deal with THE MASTER, not a lowly servant. They know that the words are not the servant’s but THE MASTER who sent the servant. To touch the servant is touching THE MASTER.
So my sum and total is as the MASTER judges my worth. All that i am and all that i have HE has given me. My continued service is based on my value HE ascribes to me. And HIS JUDGEMENT i will trust. HIS COMMAND is all i await.
Who am i does not matter, never has and never will. To who’s HOUSE i belong does. Some servants come from the gutters, while some were born in HIS HOUSE. Their origin is not an issue, only their obedience and their service. The only thing that differentiates the servants is the level of authority and accountability they may hold. Otherwise they are indistinguishable. Same clothing, same food, same water, same sleeping place…. there is no cause to think of yourself above any other servant. For it is not another person we look upon but a fellow servant in whom my MASTER delights. For if one falls we all fall and the MASTER is diminished. If one is lost my MASTER is decreased. If one is struck down HIS HOUSE and HIS PERSON is assaulted….and this my MASTER does not take lightly.
So i still wonder why HE allowed me to enter HIS SERVICE… why HE had me clothed and trained my hands for war… why i was taught with HIS CHILDREN born in HIS HOUSE…. why would HE talk to me…. why HE is concerned for me…. why HE has given GRACE and MERCY, BLESSING and FAVOR, beyond all measure…. why HE embraces me and calls me ‘friend’ is beyond all understanding…. so if you need to ask why i gladly give ALL to my MASTER…to live for HIM alone…. and willing to die for HIM and HIS HOUSE…. then i fear you have never met HIM yourself…. heard HIS VOICE pierce the darkness…. feel HIS HAND that strengthens….. seen HIS GLORY and HIS BEAUTY…. tasted HIS GOODNESS and HIS SWEETNESS…. or smelled HIS FRAGRANCE in the night wind…. i grieve for you and pray you might knock at HIS DOOR…. and call out HIS NAME…..
selah
bob in Miami