Before I went on a crazy adventure around the world and before I moved across the country following a unpredictable God – back when I lived at home and things made sense – I worked as a waitress.
Cracker barrel was my home once upon a time. I spent all my time either at the cracker barrel, talking about the cracker barrel, or hanging out with people who worked with me at the cracker barrel.
For years the majority of my time was spent serving the elderly, making iced tea with way too much sugar, and joking around over plates of pancakes.
And then I left for the Race, and walked away from serving.
On thanksgiving this year, I was reminded once again what it is to work as a server, and I learned what it means to truly Be a servant.
My family and I had decided we were going to spend the lunch hours of thanksgiving serving lunch to the residents of a near by nursing home and their families instead of sitting around watching the parade.
I had been anticipating spending the time scooping piles of mashed potatoes onto plates, a river of gravy pouring over the sides. Instead I was put on serving duty. I haven’t served a table since before the Race and was excited yet nervous. Would I remember how to serve tables?
Walking over to the first table I couldn’t help but laugh at the entourage following me. Unlike when I was a waitress picking up the tables all on my own, today I was accompanied by my three little siblings.
They talked too loudly, grabbed plates without asking first, and forgot a drink or two, but man, they really loved.
While I was busy refilling coffee, they had their eyes on the old man in the corner eating alone.
When I was waiting patiently for the guests to walk past me, they boulted past, their eyes on the woman who’s hands were too full; plates falling to the ground.
While I was helping people clean their tables, my little brother, hand in hand was leading his new friend to a nearby seat.
I was caught up in what it meant to be a server, while my little siblings understood what it meant to be a servant.
They had the gift to see people, love people, and care for people. They imperfectly served people, in able to perfectly love them.
That morning I was so busy trying to serve people, I forgot to be a servant.
Sometimes we get so caught up in what we are doing we forget why we are doing it in the first place.
This year in my haste to say all the right things, and deliver as many plates of food as I could, I forgot to really love those I was there to serve. I forgot why I was really there. Luckily for me I had my family there to remind me what being a servant really means.
And so now, with my eyes opened to what a true servanthood looks like, I am determined to see and really love those around me. Taking the time to really care for every person I get the chance to be around. Because what we are ding is never more important then why we do it.
How can you practice being a servant to those around you this holiday season? Remembering no only what you are doing, but why you are doing it.
