“You got the gravy on my chicken” … that was how my night began serving Urban poor here in Indianapolis. A soup kitchen style serving opportunity, I was simply there to observe, to learn, to think through how we could mobilize people and encourage their spiritual growth.
In reality it was my own spiritual growth that was challenged.
Those words rang out on my very first scoop. I had failed. I looked at the woman in disbelief and thought … “I am here to serve, who cares if some of the gravy got on the chicken, shouldn’t we just be thankful for a hot dinner”
And then I stopped.
I stopped and I made eye contact and I saw myself. I saw a woman with two arms and two legs. A woman with a brain and a voice and an opinion. A woman who longed for relationships, not only with others but with her Heavenly Father.
And then it hit me. Why is it okay for me to not want my gravy to touch my chicken, but its not okay for this woman to simply want the same thing?
And in that moment I realized that we’re really all the same. Sure our stories and our situations lead us different places and into different circumstances, but when you boil it all down we all are made by God and loved by Him. We have minds of our own and opinions and simply because you’re different than me doesn’t mean that you don’t matter.
In that moment I was reminded that we have a God who loves us through our faults, the judgements we pass on others, and the circumstances we find ourselves in. A God who loves us at our worst and longs for a relationship wtih us even when we don’t want one with Him.
A heavenly Father who places people in our lives who are willing to complain about their gravy simply so that He can show us that we’re really all the same and in the end I wasn’t there to serve, but to be reminded that we’re all just human.