SallyMatheny: Sharing the Son Means Leaving the Shade

27.7.18

Sharing the Son Means Leaving the Shade

by Sally Matheny

Enthusiasm fresh as the morning

My enthusiasm glittered with the morning sun. It was my first time serving a meal at the project.

People slowly filtered into the commons area. My cheerful greetings were not returned.

Instantly, I sensed a divide greater than the table between us. They had come for the food. Nothing else.

An inexplicable heaviness stifled communication. Icy silence, as well as sharp tongues, severed most attempts at interaction. It was obvious. We were not welcome.

After helping distribute the food, I retreated under the outstretched branches of a tree. Thankfully, I’d thought to bring a lawn chair. It provided a secure place to perch and watch the crowd. Most of the missions team stayed under the shady tent. Two or three pastors mingled and tried to chisel out conversations.

Then I saw her.

A young woman, probably in her early twenties, stood off to the side, alone. She was looking around as if searching for something.

I hesitated. The last woman I had approached gruffly informed me she was waiting on someone. Perhaps this young woman was waiting as well.

Yet, she continued to stand there. Sweat flowed down her face. She hugged her drink and chips in one arm and her hamburger in the other. What was she looking for?

Seating was limited. Most people grabbed their food and hustled back to their homes. Could this woman possibly be one of the few who wanted to sit and stay awhile?

Slowly, I eased out from under the tree’s protection. I wondered if she would be like the others and berate me for being there. I was an outsider—different ethnicity, different economic level, a different worldview.

“Hi. Are you looking for someone?” I asked.

She shyly shook her head no. I didn’t recognize any anger in her face. It appeared to be more like discomfort.

“Would you like to sit down to eat?”

A simple nod yes.

I looked around at the few tables provided. No empty seats. I scanned the grassy area under the trees. An empty chair sat beside mine.

“Would you like to sit under the tree? It’s cooler.”

Sharing the Son Means Leaving the Shade

She nodded and followed me to the tree. The distance was short, but we didn’t arrive in time to claim both chairs. Only my chair was left so I offered it to her.

As she sat down, I introduced myself. She told me her name but I couldn't hear her over someone yelling. I did not ask her to repeat it.

I smiled, trying hard not to be insincerely cheery. “It’s nice to meet you. I hope you like your burger.”

An awkward silence followed. I motioned toward the tent. “I’ve got to go help serve.”

She smiled with another silent nod.

As I stood under the shade of the tent, I kept looking back over at the tree. The woman quietly ate. A young man chattered away beside her but she wasn’t responding.

Something inside told me to go tell her why we were there. We weren’t just giving away free meals. We were sharing the love and hope of Jesus Christ.

But the earlier rejections of the crowd stifled my response.

The crowd dwindled. Only a few remained in line. I decided handing out napkins to folks would be helpful.

“Would you like a napkin?”

A few minutes passed. Another expressionless face approached.

“Would you like a napkin?”

Another five minutes passed before anyone needed my valuable napkin distribution service. This is ridiculous. I should just go talk to her.

I neatly stacked the napkins on the corner of the table and turned back towards the tree.

She was gone.

As quietly as she had slipped into my life, she had slipped out. Along with my opportunity to tell her how much God loves her. And how He offers a joy so great, that she’d have a hard time staying so quiet.