Serving at the Samaritan House usually consists of a predictable cycle of setting tables, serving food, clearing tables, resetting them, and eventually cleaning the kitchen and dining room. I usually get my 'game face' on and try to work as fast as I can, while being meticulous in how I do things - some call me a perfectionist or if they are really blunt they just tell me I'm anal (I often straighten the place-settings that other people set in order to make them as symmetrical as possible).
Anyways, I had the job last night of receiving the dirty dishes and organizing them for the dishwashers. At certain points in the night, when everyone is getting up and giving me their dirty dishes, I am working as fast as I possibly can. In the midst of my busyness, I try to be polite and nice to people, saying "thank you" or "good night," but I'm still working as fast as I can - with little time to notice what it going on around me or who it is even that I'm serving.
At one point a guest cut in front of another man at the last second to give me his dishes, and then ran off in a hurry. The man who was cut off happens to be an amazing reggae musician, and he said to me, "we're always in such a hurry..." I nodded agreeingly, thinking about how the man who cut in front of him lived such a hurried life. How sad for that man... And back I went to work.
The reggae musician thought he was only addressing the man who cut him off. What he didn't realize is that through him, perhaps God had a word for me.
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