Small Acts of Humility

My husband is knocking on the door a little after 8am. (in our house, we don't even recognize that time.
haha) I jump up out of bed, open the door and greet him with an awkward, morning smile. He forgot his jacket the night before and I forgot, he said he'd come by in the morning before work, to get it.

"Do you have a wash cloth?" He has something all over the bottom side of his dress/work slacks. Pizza sauce or something.

I get a warm, damp wash cloth, kneel down and begin to wipe it clean for him. I'm there, below him, on my knees. What a humble position this is. {like washing feet} I wanted to do this, serve him. My identity has grown and become secure in Christ that I did not feel inconvenienced or devalued, by this small act of service--that some might say this man does not deserve. He simply appreciated my help.

I literally, began my day, kneeling on a wood floor--maybe it means something. Perhaps, there is more honor than I have understood, in starting our day with such humility...instead of the attitude of: all we are going to conquer  or have to do.

And maybe, taking the lowly position, is the way we will conquer in the end.