Friday, April 13, 2012

How May I Serve You?

A couple of weeks ago my family and I started volunteering at a church, cooking for and serving those in need. My son was really looking forward to helping. There is a short service at 6pm and the meal is served at 6:30pm.


The Wednesday before last we were sitting in the service and I realized a few things had to be done before the food would actually be ready to serve, so I slipped out the end of the pew and headed toward the kitchen. I wasn’t paying attention so I didn’t see my son following me.

We turned on the lights to the steam table, made sure serving spoons were handy, cups and plates were ready etc. As we were working my son, age nine, says “Mom, God told me my job is to serve and that my life will never be the same.”

(Dallas Theological, Jesus Washing Feet)

Being the good mom I said, “Honey, that is awesome. I’m sure God has lots of jobs for you to do.”

All during the meal my son walked around refilling people’s drinks, bringing them bread and just talking with the folks who were eating.

At one point during the meal he walked up to an elderly man and said, “Sir, how may I serve you?”


Apparently this man was hit with the realization that that is what God is calling us all to do. He just wants us to say “God, how can I serve you?” He told his daughter about the young man with the polite manners and how this young man taught him about God’s desire for us.

Two days later, this same elderly man had an aneurysm. A couple of days later, he died.

We were all dumbfounded at how Jeremiah was used in this man’s life, how he was still learning about God and God’s plan for us at the very end of his life.

Two days ago, this past Wednesday, was the man’s funeral. Since I was already cooking for a crowd, the family and friends of this man were invited to the meal at the church.

My son did the same thing he did the week before. He walked around with a breadbasket, serving those who God placed in his life to serve. He made sure he ate earlier, before the meal started, so he would be ready for his job.


Needless to say everyone loved him. At one point a lady called him a cherub, all he needed was a pair of wings. Another lady wanted to take him home with her. They commented on his remarks, the phrases that he commonly speaks. “Why he is the most adorable thang I have evah seen” was spoken in that long slow drawn out dialect quite a few times.

It came to the end of the evening, the time of night when we clean up, do the dishes and make notes about next week’s meal.

My husband was tearing down tables and sitting at one table, looking gloomy was my son. He has a certain puppy dog look that he gets when he is looking particularly sad. He had it.

He is a very sensitive kid. He cried when the Tsunami hit Japan. He cried for all the children who lost their parents. As a matter of fact he wants us to adopt a few. He cries if an animal is hurt. He cries if he thinks someone might get hurt. So, to jump to the conclusion he was finally reacting to this man passing away, was not an unlikely jump.

My husband asked him what was wrong. His reply? “I bet he is having the best day of his life.”


Revelation 21:4 He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."

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