His Final Hours

by W. Jeffrey Marsh

“When I am tempted to listen to hot, egotistic voices within my own heart; when it seems that love can never win but always loses; when it seem as though humility is ruthlessly trodden down by those who pass over it on their way to their own selfish ambitions; when it seems as though God cannot possibly triumph; when pity and love and mercy and kindness and tenderness are weakness; when it seems as though greatness is only possessed by those who know how to grab, and have the power to snatch at it, no matter what the cost to others—ah, yes, when voices sound in my own heart which say you must play for your own hand, you must think of number one, you must not let yourself be trodden down—when I am thus tempted, my God! may I hear in imagination the tinkling of water, poured into a basin, and see, as in a vision, the Son of God, washing the disciples’ feet.”3