Melanie Fischer Archives - Growing Through God's Word

Who are the “Soup Kitchen Angels”?

The “soup kitchen angels”: Scott Safety supply services Inc. – Fire division, out of Whitecourt AB)

I was the volunteer manager-on-duty at the local soup kitchen that day. I had been noticing that the walls and floors of the building where we serve weekly meals were no longer as shiny as the faces of the grateful guests that we feed. Regular volunteers get stretched thin and it becomes a challenge to coordinate groups of people to accomplish tasks outside of the weekly routine.

The volunteers trickled out of the building after a fruitful day of feeding those in need. As one of our dedicated prayer warriors was walking out the door, I asked him to pray that God would take care of the neglected details that lie heavy on my heart.

I locked the door behind him, then stood in the empty dining hall. I examined the place from top to bottom. I took a deep breath and decided to do one step each week, starting with the dining area floor. I moved what furniture I could by myself, swept out the corners, then went to the utility room to fill up the mop pail. Through the sound of the running water I heard a muffled ring of the telephone.

A cheery “hello” echoed through the phone line. It was a gentleman from a local safety company. I had spoken with him a month or so prior about possibly bringing in some of his men to give us a hand. This chipper fellow then simply asked, “Do you need help with anything?”

“Like what?” I asked with a stunned voice.

He replied “cleaning, or whatever you need?”

With great curiosity, I asked “when?”

“Right now!” he stated “some of my guys and I are out front.”

In disbelief I bolted to the front door and sure enough, there he was with over a dozen eager fire and rescue workers standing on the front step.

I am sure that I heard the angels break out into song, belting out “Hallelujah”.

I was not sure if I should laugh or cry, but I decided to invite them in and put them to work.

Within one hour the entire inside of the building was polished, from furnace room to bathrooms; floors to front steps; cupboards to fridges. The entire place sparkled. When they were done, they departed with a promise to come back each serving day to do our cleaning.

I closed the door and locked it behind them. Once again, I stood in the empty dining hall examining the place from top to bottom. A lingering aroma of pine sol and aftershave filled the air and an abundance of the Lords glory and grace filled my heart.

I was reassured that day of Gods promise to hear, and answer our prayers, for the Lord says:

Before they call I will answer; while they are still speaking I will hear (Isaiah 65:24, NIV).

Prayer:

Oh Lord, how magnificent You are, how You never forget a single one of us. Thank You for the soup kitchens in our communities that not only feed the physical hungers, but the spiritual hunger also.. May You wrap Your arms around all the soup kitchens and bless all of those who reach out to serve in these ministries. In the precious name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Tweetables:

Who are the “soup kitchen angels”? (tweet this)

Want to hear the angels belting out “Hallelujah”? (tweet this)

Melanie Fischer

Melanie is a writer and blogger. She has recently discovered that perhaps God has not created technology to punish us, but rather to propel His message into the world. She is passionate in sharing this newfound knowledge and equipping others to live their purpose. This has led her to recently start up the endeavor “Hungry for Purpose.” You can visit her blog and see what else she is up to on her website www.hungryforpurpose.com Melanie is a member of Inscribe Writers Fellowship.

Please welcome Melanie Fischer today – our new guest blogger.

What Happens When You Pray to be Used?

by Melanie Fischer

My pen was the ticket to a two week adventure in one of Nunavut’s fly-in communities. A long-time friend invited me along to her native land to document the Inuit culture for promotional material.

As I tucked a decorative scribbler into my carry-on luggage, I prayed,

“Lord, use me on this trip.”

We covered many miles across Canada to the Southern tip of Baffin Island. I covered many more miles with the end of my pen as I captured the culture and many exciting stories.

The story that earned the title “highlight of the trip” went like this:

Artists in the community bubbled with excitement as they prepared for the art sale. My stay was almost over, so I was thrilled to be able to attend. With my camera and camcorder in hand I sauntered from table to table, snapping pictures and chatting. I approached a table with a jolly Inuit lady and a man who resembled Santa.

The couple was especially friendly and generous in sharing stories. They paused to ask where I was from. “Close to Edmonton,” I stated. They gasped and explained that their son, Tommy, lived in a group-home there. Saddened that he was lonely and without family, they asked if I would stop and say hi for them.

I glanced down at my video camera, “would you like to say hi to him yourself?” I asked. They enthusiastically accepted the idea. The mom stared into the camera and delivered a message in her native tongue. I did not understand her words but I empathized with her tears.

The father then gazed at the video screen; a thick French accent buttered the phrase “I love you Tommy.” He was a man of few words, but he didn’t need them to deliver the message that he deeply missed his son. He quickly wiped away tears then nodded to indicate he was done. I closed up my camera then received contact information.

On my way home I had a one night layover in Iqaluit. As I approached the hotel front desk, a cheery young man asked me where I had come from. When I told him he laughed and said that was where he was from. “Maybe you met my mom and dad,” he chuckled.

He described his mom as a large Inuit lady and his dad…a Frenchman with a white beard. “Your brother is Tommy!” I exclaimed. He clasped his hand to his heart and spilled out “You know Tommy?” I told him how I was delivering a message from his parents to his brother.

Before I could even complete the question, “would you like to send him a message?” he stared impatiently at my camera, waiting for it to turn on.

The next day I arrived in Edmonton. A shy Inuit fellow sat across from me at our meeting place. He played the videos over and over, straining to hear every word.