Day 40: The REAL Servant

"And you, my son Solomon, acknowledge the God of your father, and serve him with wholehearted devotion and with a willing mind, for the LORD searches every heart and understands every motive behind the thoughts. 1 Chronicles 28:9

I hustled in the rain. Not only was I soaked through, I was freezing, and it was still early. The sun was just peaking over the shabby buildings in the Anacostia parking lot. My fellow volunteer and I hurried to empty the van of heavy tables, large coffee pots, food heaters and too-old-to-sell muffins from Costco. I had just been cussed out by one of our more…how shall I put it….difficult clients. And although this was a normal occurrence, and usually I would have shrugged it off and given Mr. David an extra muffin and wished him well, today was just different. I didn’t really want to be there, in the rain, in the cold. I wanted a little gratitude, honestly. Did these people know what I had gone through to get them their pathetic little breakfast? I had gotten up before the crack of dawn, braved the traffic and the metro, and dealt with the kitchen Nazis just to get them a cooler full of water and some weak coffee. And this was the thanks I got?

We continued to unload… the line for breakfast, and the mumbling, getting louder. We just couldn’t move fast enough. Why didn’t they go wait under an awning or something until we were ready? Did 5 extra minutes in line make that big of a difference? Seriously? I couldn’t wait to get home. I was making some pancakes and hot coffee and watching CNN until I could feel my fingers again.

“Here, let me help.” The voice broke into my thoughts.

“Huh?” I looked up.

It was Walter. 30 years homeless. My guess was he was about 60 or 65, although life on the streets often ages a person. He wasn’t an alcoholic or drug addict or mentally ill. He worked when and where he could and lived in various little DC wooded areas (what was left of them) and under his favorite bridges. He didn’t trust the shelters, “too many druggies” he’d tell us. He was a breakfast regular. He loved to talk Redskins and Maryland basketball. He also loved Costco chocolate-chocolate chip muffins. We got them about once-a-month and they were literally a highlight of his life. Today happened to be one of the few days we had them.

The van still held tables and the coffee pots. Walter smiled and grabbed the coffee, definitely the worse of the 2 to get out of the van. The large pots had a tendency to spill. I usually ended up smelling like coffee before the morning was done. Walter rarely had anywhere to shower. He would spend the day and probably several after it, with a dirtier-than-usual shirt because of his insistence on helping me.

Walter grabbed the sugar and creamer packets and set them out. He stood next to me for the next hour in the pouring rain helping pass out warm breakfast, hot coffee, and muffins.

I watched as the muffins slowly disappeared, the chocolate-chocolate chips were the first to go. Yet Walter never wavered. He greeted everyone with a smile as I watched his rag-tag jacket and boots fill with water and soak him to the bone. Even if the rain stopped soon, he would be wet for days. Not once did he complain. He never asked us to save him his favorite muffin (it was against policy), although who knew when he would have the chance to get another one. When breakfast was done, he helped load the truck for our next stop. And then, he did something that made me shiver inside, and not because of the cold.

He thanked me.

He thanked me for breakfast and for letting him help out. What a selfish, ungrateful person I was. I hadn’t served anyone that morning, especially not my God. I’m sure He had been disappointed in my attitude and lack of efforts

Walter was the real servant. He sacrificed something precious to him so he could meet the needs of others. He had served willingly and with a smile. His service cost him something; I had simply been doing a duty.

As Christ followers we know we are supposed to serve. Sometimes though, we get caught up in the supposed to and forget what service actually is. Serving others isn’t always convenient. It doesn’t always fit into our schedule or our comfort zones, and when that happens, it’s hard to keep a heart of service. Service like Christ isn’t about getting recognized or about our points in heaven. It is about being Christ to others. It can be done with or without words. No tracts or evangelism training needed. We simply wake up each day, zip on our “Jesus suit” and act as much like Christ as we can each day (easier said than done).

Service is never about us. It is always about Him, the One who taught us to serve. Our service, with or without words, should always point toward the Loving Servant. It may be that our service only points us toward being more like Christ. Serving may cost us nothing, or it may cost us everything. Either way, it is our heart that matters.

~Tirzah Turner