Doubling recipes is a rule of thumb when preparing daily feasts for active boys with big appetites. But as my baby birds had grown to men and mostly flown the coop, I stood sautéing a large pan of sizzling vegetables and realized: it was a gesture I wished to carry on. I was reluctant to cut back. Instead, I wanted to open my heart to more.
I talked with the Lord, “I know there are hungry people in our community. Is there someone I can feed?“
After praying, I recalled a calm summer evening some weeks earlier when my husband Anker and I strolled to our car after a church event. I called ahead to a friend I recognized, “Matt, we appreciate all you do for the special needs community.”
Matt turned around and greeted us, but with his typical humility deflected the compliment, asking instead, “Have you two ever met Stan? He’s a young man with disabilities who I’ve been meeting with regularly. He faces the dilemma of whether to use his meager monthly salary for medicine, personal hygiene support, or food. His nutritional needs usually go unfulfilled.”
“We ought to put our heads together and create a way to support him,” My husband Anker said, joining in with concern.
The conversation disturbed us enough that Anker and I imagined what life in Stan’s shoes might look like. As I lay beside Anker that evening, I asked, “Now that we are aware of Stan’s need, what will we do?”
Anker fell fast asleep as I stared at the ceiling. What if we provided a ministry where volunteers dropped off food and befriended someone in need? My good-intention dialogue was in full motion, but honestly, I didn’t do anything about it in the months that passed. This is my MO: I dream up great intentions, but life distracts me, and I don’t put in the costly effort to take action. My compassion grew dormant until the Lord reminded me of the young man’s needs once again while preparing an enormous meal for only three. I don’t know him. Maybe he’s doing okay by now, I debated.
As the holidays approached, our family attended a Christmas party planned by our church for families and their young people who have special needs. We sat with our son AJ, and other families, creating icing-and-sprinkle stars on our cookies and piping out Christmas songs together. An impressive young man sitting in a wheelchair emceed the event. He introduced himself as Stan.
I reached for our friend’s arm and whispered, “Matt, is he the Stan you told us about last summer?”
“Yes, he is.”
A verse, 1 John 3:17-18, threaded through my mind. If someone has enough money to live well and sees a brother or sister in need but shows no compassion-how can God’s love be in that person? Dear children, let’s not merely say that we love each other; let us show the truth by our actions.
I put out another feeler, “Is he still in need of food?”
“Yes,” Matt’s eyes smiled tenderly at me.
“Do you think he would accept an invitation to cook for him?” I became excited. I’d been given a chance to follow through on my previous intentions, so I knew I couldn’t postpone this opportunity.
“I think he would. I’ll introduce you to him.”
As the event came to a close, Matt motioned us aside to meet Stan. I reached my hand down to shake his, “It’s nice to meet you, Stan. We are so impressed by the great work you did as emcee tonight.”
“Th-th-th-thank you. It’s n-n-n-nice to m-m-meet you, t-too. I kn-know AJ. Hi AJ.”
My mind raced to figure out a way to ask this young man if I could cook for him. “Stan, my two other grown sons have left for college, and I’m still cooking big meals. I was wondering if you would enjoy some extra food?” I tried to control my nervously quivering lip.
Stan leaned over to fix his shoelace, his head hanging loosely over his knees as he replied, “I would like that very much. That would b-bless me.”
Tears welled in my eyes, causing Matt to gently touch my shoulder as if turning a valve to a flow of tears. I stepped back. A rush of shyness and self-doubt tried to fill me. Who is this peculiar lady anyway, asking a stranger if she can cook for him and turning on the waterworks when he accepts?
A few years have passed since that night. With each turn of the peppermill that seasons the meals, I continue cooking for Stan as if he were one of my own. Every Monday my son AJ and I make a delivery to Stan’s office where he works with other young adults with differing abilities. It fills my heart watching AJ jump to his feet to pick up the heavy bag of meals and proudly deliver them to Stan.
“Here you go,” AJ always announces.
“Thank you, AJ. It’s g-g-great to see you. Thank you, B-Bonnie. You bless me a-again,” Stan responds as he sets the heavy bag on his legs and rolls towards the driver awaiting him.
I used to feel guilty about the resources I enjoy when confronted with people in need until a missionary invited me to exchange the guilt with the question, “How can I use my resources for the good of others?” That changed everything. I learned that by inviting us into His great love story, God gives us gifts and resources intended to be given away. How we use these as a means to love others is left up to us. Consider how can you match your abilities to your neighbor’s need, and release Christ-like love.
As I’d learned, our inhibitions lose their power to hold us back when we step into action. May our default response become immediate when the Spirit awakens us to the vast opportunities awaiting those who are ready to free their treasures for others.
Melinda says
I love this Bonnie. I too am moved to serve others, to share, to teach, to learn. I hope this beautiful message inspires me and others to do more. 🙏🏼 Melinda
BonnieJ Christensen says
Melinda! I can’t believe I just received this message today. :/ Or the delay reveals my computer skills! Thank you for your thoughts. Here we are, almost one year later, and how we need to be a good neighbor! Serving, supporting, and learning from one another for the good of all. I am thankful for you!