Being Served

I enjoy serving the women who come to Bible study in my home.
I love to bake, so it is always fun to make something new for them to try.
You are my guinea pigs, I have said on occasion.
Since I do not have a sweet tooth, I mean that sincerely.

Coffee is brewing in an old fashioned percolator.
Hot water is ready for tea.
Canisters of various tea are in a basket on the counter.
Cups, plates, forks, and napkins are nearby.

It brings gladness to my heart when I see people enjoy the food I put before them.
I felt the same way when I fed my family.
Our family dinner table was holy ground.
Anytime a meal is shared, it is a special occasion.

I always smile to think that the same recipes I make, often taste so good when served to me.
What is it about not having to cook or prepare a meal?
What is it about someone putting a plate of food down in front of you that they prepared?
There is something so sweet and so delicious about the simplest food when served.

When my son, my daughter-in-love, and my granddaughter come for a weekend, it happens.
He is a music connoisseur.
I always encourage him to choose music for us to listen to, often in the background.
Who is singing that? I ask him.

Often the person is someone I already know but it sounds so different on his playlist.
Why is that?
My youngest daughter will choose music and I will remark about a song I like.
Mom, you know them; and sure enough I do have their music in my library.

It just tastes different or sounds different when I am the recipient of the food or the song.
It’s as if I have my feet up and someone brings something delightful to me.
There is no work on my part.
There is just sheer enjoyment.

I remember my mother reading me a story when I was young.
I actually have the small book tucked in an old poetry book.
Its pages are worn.
I re-read the story from time to time.

At an auction, there was one last item to be bid upon.
It was an old violin.
It was shabby and worn and had seen better days.
The auctioneer began the bidding; no one was interested in the old violin.

From the back of the room, an old gentleman walked towards the front.
All eyes were on him as he picked up the old violin from the case.
After tightening the strings, he lifted the violin and placed it under his chin.
He ran the bow across the strings.

He began to play the most beautiful music.
Everyone in the room was quiet.
Eyes were closed as the music washed over them.
When he was finished, the man put the violin and the bow back in the case.

The auctioneer began the bidding again.
The bids were quite high.
Voices went back and forth, bidding on the priceless violin.
The highest bidder won the violin for himself.

What made the difference? Someone asked the auctioneer.
It was the touch of the master’s hand, the auctioneer said.
I have never forgotten that story.
There is hidden beauty that only the Master can make known.

Afterward Jesus appeared again to his disciples, by the Sea of Galilee. It happened this way:  Simon Peter, Thomas (also known as Didymus), Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples were together.  “I’m going out to fish,” Simon Peter told them, and they said, “We’ll go with you.” So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.  Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus. He called out to them, “Friends, haven’t you any fish?” “No,” they answered.  He said, “Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some.” When they did, they were unable to haul the net in because of the large number of fish. Then the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” As soon as Simon Peter heard him say, “It is the Lord,” he wrapped his outer garment around him (for he had taken it off) and jumped into the water. The other disciples followed in the boat, towing the net full of fish, for they were not far from shore, about a hundred yards. When they landed, they saw a fire of burning coals there with fish on it, and some bread. Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish you have just caught.” So Simon Peter climbed back into the boat and dragged the net ashore. It was full of large fish, 153, but even with so many the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” None of the disciples dared ask him, “Who are you?” They knew it was the Lord. Jesus came, took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish. This was now the third time Jesus appeared to his disciples after he was raised from the dead. (John 21:1-14)

Come and have breakfast.
Can you imagine the risen Lord Jesus making breakfast for His disciples?
I am certain that the fish cooking on the fire never tasted so good.
It was the touch of their Lord that made it so delicious.

Can you imagine the taste of the bread that Jesus handed to his weary friends?
No bread ever tasted so good.
The bread was from His hand.
He had prepared the meal just for them.

Something so simple had hidden beauty and meaning.
A simple meal of fish and bread, from the hand of their Master, fed their weary bodies.
I understand how delicious a meal is when it is served to me.
Imagine the Meal we will have one day when the Lord Jesus serves us.

A more splendid meal has never been had before.
Jesus will be there.
The Savior Servant will wait on us. (Luke 12:37)
The Master’s hands will still bear the scars from the nails on the cross.

Thank you, Master.

2 responses to “Being Served”

1. This was lovely. I’m learning through your and other’s writing not to just acknowledge a point in scripture for a second but to dwell on it and imagine it (without adding to scripture what’s not given to us). I think this pleases the Father.

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   • Oh, Paula, what a lovely thing to say. I always hope that my writing points others to the Father. Once you start looking for the Whispers, each day, you will be amazed how many you will find. I am delighted that you are blessed.
     Gina

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