My African Brothers

My husband invited his group project buddies over to the house tonight. It was a last-minute thing....everyone else had kids or lived out of the city. I thought, "Whew! Good think I cleaned yesterday!" And then I thought, "Will they be hungry? Should I get snacks?" And then I was annoyed, thinking about another trip to the grocery store on a weeknight. Where's my free time!?! So, I decided not to go to the grocery store. I decided that the boys would do just fine with chips and salsa and triskets and cheese that we already have here at the house. We can serve them water and tea if they want. Hmph.

I forgot to mention that this is a missions class group project and that there are two African men joining their group. They've been in America for two months. Ernest and Daniel introduced themselves and smiled sweetly. I went into the kitchen to wash dishes while the boys talked, and overheard stories of refugee camps and being fired from work for not speaking English.

Kev came into the kitchen and said, "Daniel just told me he hasn't eaten in two days." WHAT? Oh, no he didn't go hungry in MY living room! I brought out peaches and apples and carrots and hoped that my attempt to fill their bellies wasn't misinterpreted as being lavish. I was giving away everything in my kitchen. And, it felt real good. All of those things in the Bible about the poor inheriting a kingdom, and the meek inheriting the earth, dude I believe it. I can see how that works. Not that I'm poor or meek, but the idea that you gain when you give away is the truest seemingly contradiction that I know.

I think I'm having a break-through here. If only I can remember how good it feels to serve, to give. Maybe I'll stop loving the money that we earn. Maybe I'll not think twice when Kevin wants to give $1000 for some lady who needs diapers. Maybe I'll start using what God has given me to be a blessing to people. That's a thought.