One thing we do well out here in flyover country is serving others. A family member passes away, people show up with casseroles, paper goods and hugs. Someone unexpectedly has a crisis and requests prayers, the local church activates the prayer chain and telephones light up in perfect sequence. A family is having a rough day, friends offer to babysit kids and substitute in the school pick-up line. Natural disaster strikes, and hoards of people, many strangers, show up to clean up and often offer their own tools or even clothes off their back. We are servers out here. It is what we do. It is the right thing to do and that urge to serve comes bubbling up from somewhere, not so deep, in our souls.
When an event, large or small, happens to you, is it easy to be served? It is not easy for me. I don’t think it is a pride thing, but merely that we are programmed to do the serving. However, it is crucial that we take on the other role at times and allow ourselves to be served. It is not only a blessing to us, but potentially to the one doing the serving.
A few mornings ago, I received an unexpected gift from someone who likely didn’t realize what she was walking into much less what her simple actions would mean. When a family from down the road wanted to play with my kids and rang our doorbell, we were in the middle of a crazy morning. Normally this would have been a non issue, but on this particular day I had a meeting in little over an hour, a babysitter was coming, my house was a wreck as I was unpacking from the harvest season, breakfast remained out, and we were all in various stages of dress or undress. I simply wasn’t able to visit outside on that morning due to the approaching meeting. Their mother insisted on hanging out with all the kids on my driveway and politely declined to see and visit in the cluster found inside. She asked that I get my work done. I protested but let it go. I allowed her to help me in that moment of overload. To be honest, I NEEDED help in that moment even if it was hard to admit I simply couldn’t do it all that morning.
When she learned of our schedule, she could have easily turned around, said they’d try another day and continued on their bike ride. I wouldn’t have thought a thing of it, and that would have been a normal response. Instead she went above and beyond what was even necessary to help another mom out. I got a few, much needed, moments of alone time to get a handle on the upcoming day (which rarely happens in harvest season). The unexpected gesture and gift of time made a huge difference.
Do you know anyone who could benefit from a simple gesture? Could you be the one to give it? Maybe you’re in need but are you willing to receive a hand up if the opportunity presents itself? Both sides are equally important and we will all find ourselves on either side of the spectrum many times in our lives. We need each other on this journey called life, and that is ok!
Chalk creations in the drive. The physical remains of a sweet gesture. Though rain may wash them away, the memory of kindness will live on.