For Wilshire Baptist Church
During our recent joint birthday week, LeAnn and I visited a restaurant we rarely go to, but they’re known for steaks and that seemed like a good way to celebrate. When the server came to our table, we realized he had served us once before because he has the same name as our nephew. But we also realized it had been almost two years since our most recent visit because on that night they were having a benefit for that server and his family. His parents had died and two of his six siblings were seriously injured driving home from a camping trip. He had not been on the trip, and at 23 he had become the head of the family.
On that benefit night, he didn’t serve us but we watched with admiration as he served his tables and accepted the well wishes of friends and strangers. We could see in his eyes that he was overwhelmed by the attention, not to mention the weight of the tragedy that still was fresh.
On this return visit, we didn’t say anything about it until our meal was finished and he asked if we wanted to join the frequent diner club. We don’t usually do that, but this time we said yes, and we admitted that we hadn’t been there in two years, and in fact the last time we were there was during the benefit for him, and then came the awkward question: “So, how’ve you been? Has life been relatively okay, considering . . .?”
Slowly but without hesitation, he said it had been tough, and then he shared some of the past two years, including that his six younger siblings are all okay and are being raised by his grandparents now. He sees them when he can but he’s working on a career at the restaurant chain and will probably transfer to another location as an assistant manager.
When we got home, I did a little sleuthing on the internet and found a news story that gave the how and when of the tragedy that took the server’s parents and put two siblings in the hospital with life-threatening injuries. And then I found him on Facebook and read his postings of the slow but steady recovery of his two siblings. I also saw how before the accident, there was the typical carefree and sometimes inappropriate postings of a young man with a bright, sunny life ahead. And after the accident and recovery, there was a slow return to those carefree postings. But that might have just been a masking of real life because all his postings ended abruptly months ago, perhaps reflecting the sharpened focus of a young man who is getting serious about the future.
LeAnn and I shared with each other later that we both were wanting to speak to him at the table but didn’t want to pry until the club invite provided an opening. I’m mostly an introvert, but I have these weird moments when I feel compelled to ask the awkward question. Perhaps in this case it was a remembrance of my own loss and how I didn’t want to talk about it but sometimes I was hungry for someone to ask.
As it happened, at the end of our conversation, our server said, “People rarely say anything to me about it, but thanks for asking.”
I do believe there’s some healing that happens when we talk about these things. Sometimes it may take someone stepping out on faith, joining the club and asking the awkward question. And who knows? now that we’ve joined the club, we might go to that restaurant more often. And if he’s moved, we might even go to the one where that brave young man is the manager. It might be good to see how he’s doing.