Water on the Nightstand
So Jesus called them together and said, “You know that the rulers in this world lord it over their people, and officials flaunt their authority over those under them. But among you it will be different. Whoever wants to be a leader among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first among you must be the slave of everyone else. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve others and to give his life as a ransom for many.” — Mark 10:42–45
It was 3:00 in the morning, and I was awake when I noticed that my wife had started to cough. Nothing major. Just a little bit of a dry mouth. “Did you want some water,” I asked. She hesitates before saying, “No, I’ll get it.” When you have known each other for over forty years, you know how to translate even the smallest things. She knew that I was exhausted from the day before and did not want to inconvenience me. I knew that she really wanted the water and was just being thoughtful. We have these insulated cups, and they are great for getting ice water because they stay cold for hours. So, I go downstairs putting in the ice and water and come back upstairs to see my wife has gone back to sleep. About fifteen minutes later, she coughs again, and I gently inform her that there is water for her on the nightstand. “Thank you,” she warmly replies. And that is our night.
It is a small thing, that water on the nightstand. Easy to do once. Easy to do twice. But the truth I keep learning is that an attitude of serving others gets harder the moment I am not feeling up to it and harder still when the person on the other end is someone I do not particularly like in that moment. Earlier that same evening, my wife had told me to get up off the couch to retrieve my own phone after I had asked her to bring it to me. The water trip at three in the morning lands differently when you remember the phone. And yet Jesus, who as God stands above everyone, says plainly that He came not to be served but to serve. The little things are where that gets formed. Practice getting it right enough times especially when you do not feel like it and you eventually find yourself transformed. That is exactly what God is hinting at.
Mark 10 puts this in the most direct terms in the Gospels. James and John have just asked Jesus for the seats of honor on His right and His left. The other disciples are angry, probably because they wanted those seats too. Jesus does not scold them for wanting to matter. He redefines what mattering looks like. The world’s leaders, He says, lord over people and flaunt their authority. Among you, it will be different. Whoever wants to be great must serve. Whoever wants to be first must be a slave to everyone else. And then the line that ends the argument: even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.
What strikes me is that Jesus does not separate greatness from service. He puts them together. The path up is the path down. And He proves it not with a sermon but with a cross. Paul echoes the same pattern in his letter to the Philippians: “You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had. Though he was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to. Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being” (Philippians 2:5–7). If the One who had every right to be served gave up His divine privileges, then my reluctance to walk downstairs at three in the morning is not a small reluctance. It is a quiet refusal to follow the pattern Jesus set.
Service is not measured in grand gestures. It is measured in the unseen errands, the unposted kindnesses, the moments no one will ever thank you for. The water gets poured. The cup gets carried. The grudge gets set down at the bottom of the stairs and is not brought back up. “So let’s not get tired of doing what is good,” Paul writes, “At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up” (Galatians 6:9). Over time, those small obediences do something to a person. They wear down the part of us that keeps score. They soften the part of us that demands to be served first. And slowly, often without our noticing, we start to look a little more like the One we are following.
Where in your life this week did serving someone feel costly and what did your response reveal about whose example you are actually following? Who in your home, your team, or your circle has been quietly serving you in ways you have stopped noticing, and how might you name that gratitude out loud today?
My prayer is that Christ would make us willing in the small hours and the small things. When we are tired, owed something, when serving costs more than we want, remind us that You came for exactly this. Soften the places in us that keep score. Teach us to carry the water without keeping a record of who carried it last. And let the people closest to us feel the difference not because we tried harder, but because You changed something in us. Amen.