IT'S NOT THE MUFFIN...

Written by the administrator of Christian Adoption.

12/10/00

…it's not the muffin…

Last week I was given the opportunity to speak at a Ladies Luncheon. I consider it a joy and a privilege whenever and wherever I am asked to make a presentation. Give me a platform, a chair, a table, a podium, a keyboard, a microphone, a piece of ground/floor/carpet and a few warm bodies--and I'm ready to speak. Often I have the privilege of sharing directly from God's Word (my first choice) and sometimes I just speak about adoption (I always work in adoption and network for CA--no matter what) or in this case I presented a poetry/short story recital. These are inspirational poems that I have committed to memory as well as poignant short stories. I love watching the faces of those listening and each face tells me a story as I make the presentation. This day was no different, except for the muffin…

I had asked the lady friend I knew in this group, just what time I was going to speak. I needed to figure out my schedule for dropping off Danielle at school and what to do with Samuel during my 20-minute presentation. She told me 12:50 p.m.

I'd been on a 'dead run' since I popped out of bed that morning. All night long I recited poetry in my sleep and had already subjected my family to several renditions the night before. Quiet time in prayer, chores outside with animals, chores inside, shower, dress, nails, diapers, dress 2 kids, feed them, figure out Eddie's train schedule and then--what to do with Ito (Samuel-ito). I opted to call my hairdresser, who is also a good friend…"Hey Janet, could I bring Samuel down to the shop for about an hour while I attend this luncheon? I'll bring a playpen, toys, and bottle." "Sure, bring him down, we'd love to have him." So, I loaded the car with the appropriate gear, loaded the kids, and took a handful of pills--antibiotics for my severe lung infection, cough suppressant so I could speak, and some Tylenol to get my fever down and to take the aches away. (I knew I should stay in bed, but what do you tell a group of ladies that asked you to do their special Christmas program over 4 mos. ago?)

I dropped off Samuelito, took Danny to school and arrived at 12:30 ready for lunch, presentation, and to go pick up Ito about 1:15.

About 15 elderly ladies were gathered around a well-set table at the Country Club. All dressed to the 't'. Some in silk suits that had seen better days, some in holiday sweaters that echoed the same color theme, some with 'boofy' hair-doos, varying hair shades of gray/purple as well as salt & pepper (me!) Every one of them over 65, every one of them with grandkids and great grandkids, all from very wealthy backgrounds. I tried to chit-chat (which drives me nuts anyway), but no matter how hard I tried I just couldn't connect with any of these of women. I checked my watch--12:45--and thought okay, they want me to do this before their meal and then I will leave--don't need to stay and eat anyway. But, alas, I was mistaken. Here came the meal and I was starved, so time to dive in. Having been a caterer in Kansas City, I knew that when serving elderly, cut the portions in almost half because they most likely won't eat all of it anyway. I began to devour my chicken salad in silence, which was excellent. (Grilled and diced chicken breast in dill seasoned dressing with celery and a hint of minced onion. The only item I would have added would have been toasted sliced almonds.) The array of fresh fruit was delightful and one tiny blueberry mini-muffin was the sole bread compliment. 1:15 and we were still eating. 1:25 and we were still eating--well, they were--I had almost finished my entire salad bowl including the lettuce. (I was famished and thankful to finally even want to eat again after a couple days of 'no thanks, nothing sounds good enough to eat'.) The ladies chatted quietly and intermittently. AND NONE of them asked me anything, nothing. I checked my watch again--1:40 and I thought about what I had told Janet about leaving Samuel at her shop for 'about an hour'. The lady to my right talked almost perpetually about almost nothing. She was the widow to the president of a large bank in town and after hearing about where to buy the best crystal for holiday gifts, where to buy the newest Hummel figurines, and her recent trip to Europe; I had concluded that she was a very wealthy widow. I noticed she had not touched her salad and only eaten her blueberry mini-muffin. It was now 1:50 and I was beginning to get quite annoyed and frustrated with this presentation request. I looked at the servers with a pitiful "PLEASE rescue me" face and decided to have a cup of coffee with my little muffin, like a reward for enduring this luncheon. The server poured a hot cup of coffee and I took another deep breath; 1:55 and then it happened. It happened so quickly, I didn't even think about it at the time, other than how to respond in a Christ-like fashion. Marlene, the lady to my right, reached over and asked me for my mini-muffin. "Could I have your muffin please? I see you haven't eaten it and I cannot eat this salad. Can I have your muffin?" "Oh sure, yes…" Then I looked at the hostess at the head of the table and asked that she request a plate of muffins for Marlene or a substitute meal. "NO, no, no. I am full now. Now that I have eaten her muffin. Don't get anything else for me," she INSISTED. And they didn't. Not for her or for me or for anyone else. Then at 2:05 as steam was coming out of my ears, dessert arrived and like a snail on a cold day, each lady slowly ate their cake. I had already finished my cake, gone to the bathroom, combed my hair, put on lipstick twice, adjusted the crooked bow on my dress, and waited for my cue. Then it began to 'hit' me. I was their guest, their guest speaker at their special luncheon. I had come to fulfill my word even though very ill, my muffin had been pilfered by a rich widow that could have bought half the food in the kitchen that day, and I was now taking advantage of my friend's kindness. How rudely I was treated as the guest, how rude man is to others when they do not walk in love. How rude and cruel they were to our Lord and he was an honored guest wherever he was present. I was in 'mental ozone' when they called my name. It was now well after 2:00 p.m.

"Deborah is our guest speaker today and she will take it from here…" (Nice introduction, I thought.)

I stood up, plugged Christian Adoption for about 45 seconds, I passed out CA cards, and I passed out personal adoption cards of our couples with another 30 second plug for birthmother leads. I then took a deep breath and presented 15 minutes of stories, poems and inspiration. Tears flowed from the eyes of some, others were on the edge of their seats, and many hearts were touched by the power of words. God's words in the form of this simple yet powerful presentation. God was still on the throne and His love was being manifested to these ladies. I finished and graciously excused myself. They handed me an envelope with a check in it, which I refused, but they insisted. $10 was the amount. (Déjà vu' back to Eddie just the day before.) I raced to pick up Ito, apologized profusely to Janet and gave her the $10 for watching Samuel the additional time. I then hustled to get Danielle from school, ran a few errands, unloaded the car and kids at home, change diapers, feed the kiddos, chores inside and outside with animals, baths, laundry, bedtime stories, prayers, bottle and then I collapsed. My day was done and my body let me know it could not do another thing.

In 'mental ozone' I related the events of the day to Eddie when he called from OK, but it wasn't until the next day that I really considered the mini-muffin. It wasn't the muffin, it was the point. And the point, as Eddie reminded me, was that we have a personal adversary that seeks to steal, kill and destroy. In any way, at any time, of any thing. Our peace of mind, our health, our finances, our time, our hope, our dreams, our trust, our purity, our desire to serve and give in spite of the theft of food from our plates (mental, emotional or literal.) He told me there was a good lesson in that mini-muffin. To always respond in a Christ-like manner even with a mini-muffin and then let God sort it out.

From now on I will look at a mini-muffin with a new perspective...

it's not the muffin…it's the point.

For more information please read Open and Answer. We encourage you to prayerfully consider registering with our service, and/or writing to us.

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Deborah S. Hill   P.O. Box 243   Coffeyville, KS  67337    

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