As I mentioned in an earlier post, my husband was attending an Upward training conference in Birmingham this past weekend. We were without kids for the first time since our trip to New York over a year-and-a-half ago. So, in between sessions, we squeezed in as much time together as we could. We had a lot of "old haunts" to visit in Birmingham, so our schedule was jam packed.
In fact, one day he was a little late to his training. But while he was late (just a few minutes, really) to a session to offer him some tips to further his Upward ministry, he was learning a lot about some other important ministry areas. We both were.
One of the places we visit whenever we end up in Birmingham is Roly Poly, a shop that sells all kinds of creative sandwich wrap combinations. There are Roly Poly franchises all over the country, but just not near us. Side note: my personal favorite is #30- Basil Cashew Chicken, which in addition to the obvious also has a spicy thai sauce, avocado and sprouts. Yum. I now feel the need to head back down there and get another one. This time, I'll probably have to take the kids, for reasons I will explain in a post forthcoming...
Anyway, back to the story: We went to Roly Poly for dinner, in part because we love it, but also because it was close to the hotel. We knew we were short on time, so we just planned to take it with us and eat it on the way. Only one problem: it. took. for. ever.
We were the only people in the restaurant except for a tiny blonde girl, about five years old, sitting at the back table coloring. When we sat down to wait for our order, she changed locations and picked a table right by ours.The hubs and I rarely get time together without our kids, so we weren't overly excited about hanging out with someone else's, but we figured she belonged to one of the workers and was probably bored. I grabbed a few of the free city scene magazines and we looked through them together, playing a game in which we guess the age of every child we found on the pages.
There were admittedly a few times we tried to look completely enthralled in our own magazines, hoping the little chatterbox to our left would take the hint and read silently as well. She did not. We talked to her about a friend's birthday party (at Pump It Up) and her school. We told her a little about our little girls. We looked at our cell phones, silently willing the time to pass so that we could get our food and go (it had been about 25 minutes at this point). Hubby got up to use the restroom, and when he came back, I did the same- if for no other reason than just to break the monotony of the wait!
As I came back to the table, I heard hubs talking with the man who had just come from the kitchen and was now behind the counter. He was smiling, watching the little girl, and warning us that she would "talk your ears off" (too late!). He apologized for the wait and explained the combination of circumstances that had caused the delay. When he asked us if we had a punch card, we told him that we were from out of town, though I had once lived just around the corner.
He then began to tell us about the crazy mass murder that occurred at my old apartment complex last year, though not before taking us outside so his daughter couldn't hear. We talked with him more, and found out that he was a marine, but he had been injured and was no longer active. His wife left him and he had gotten full custody of his daughter. He now was going to school, working numerous short shifts (the manager lets him work shorter hours at a time so that he can bring his daughter when she isn't in school) and raising a little girl by himself. He confided in us that although he had learned to braid hair, he knew very little about helping her to grow into a woman, and worried that he didn't have time to date to find the right person to help him.
I looked in the window of the restaurant at the chatty little blonde still perusing magazines and told him he seemed to be doing a fine job. His smile shone. Soon she too came outside (we were the only customers, and it was a beautiful afternoon) to visit with us for a few more minutes before we walked to our car and hurried back to the hotel.
As we drove off, my hubby and I had the same mix of emotions. There was stress at the idea of running behind, sure. But there was also guilt that we had almost rushed through that situation without getting to know the people around us, hearing their stories, and offering encouragement. And relief, mixed with a bit of satisfaction, at the knowledge that we did stick around.
As we rode the elevator up to our room (he had to grab his notebook before heading on) my wonderful husband turned to me and said, "That is the kind of man I want to be." He went on to say that he has wondered and worried about what would happen if something were to happen to me, if he were left trying to take care of his girls by himself. The idea that our new friend was dealing with that, as well as working and going to school and coming back from serving our country... well, as my husband said, "You never know what some people are going through." Or how strong they are.
I wonder how many strong or struggling souls we have the chance to meet every day, if we would just slow down and truly see them. And yet we almost hurried away from them so that we could make it to something to support our "official" ministry. What a sad irony.
When I think about it that way, I'd guess that Jesus wasn't one for schedules and hurrying past those He came to love. I'm sure He knew what was most important, and that it wasn't always being on time or going to the right meetings. Maybe that is just another one of the reasons He rubbed the religious people the wrong way.
To me, it's just another one of the reasons He is the kind of person I want to be...
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