Pizza Hut Providence

Spiritually charged yet physically depleted, I was running on adrenaline as I steered the oversized van into the parking lot of a South Carolina Pizza Hut. My youth group and I were several hours into our drive home to Southeast Florida following an incredible week of Summer Camp with more than 700 other students from church youth groups throughout the United States. The kids had said their goodbyes to new friends, exchanging numbers and promising to stay in touch after spending six action-packed days and nights together. It was a week filled with inspiring worship and innovative biblical teaching, wacky relays, a rousing camp talent show and a funky 70’s costume contest. Several of my students made life-changing spiritual decisions and all of us felt a closer connection with our heavenly Dad. The theme for the week was Servant hood—allowing God to minister to others through us. I planned our meal stop after the lunch rush so we could get in and out and back on the road as quickly as possible. As my jovial, chattering students filed into the restaurant, we barely noticed the tables cluttered with half empty red plastic cups, crumpled napkins and crusty dishes. Focused on exuberantly sharing their camp experiences with each other while keeping an eye on the restroom lines, the kids seemed totally unaware of their surroundings. Soon we realized we were the only ones in the room. Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty; the restroom lines were gone and the chatter had finally died down long enough for us to realize we had not seen a server or even been offered menus. Soon I saw a pregnant young woman emerge from the kitchen and briefly stop behind the counter near the cash register. Being careful not to cast a glance our way, she disappeared back into the kitchen without a word. By this time thirty-five minutes had passed and the kids were hungry and cranky. I was frustrated and antsy to get back on the road. By the time she appeared again, we had logged forty-five minutes at our stop, and still had no menus. I approached the counter intending to complain, but in that moment God helped me to see the situation through his eyes. I felt my frustration melt away. No longer did I see a dirty restaurant with lazy employees ignoring a dining room filled with restless students and their anxious leader. Instead I saw an overwhelmed expectant mother, not much older than the students in my group, tired and alone and dying to prop up her swollen feet. Instead of explaining the rush we were in and asking why she was not taking care of us, I heard myself asking if she had a damp cloth I could use. Without a word I started going table to table gathering dirty silverware, stacking plates and plastic cups and delivering them to the counter. One by one I noticed my students slowly and quietly beginning to follow suit. Once the dishes were cleared I washed the table tops with the cloth she had given me. This continued until every table in the place was clean. As they worked, the mood began to transition from impatient exasperation to compassionate assistance. Each student’s silent service was an act of pure worship that filled our hearts with humility and gratitude, and I believe it made God smile. The meal we received from that South Carolina Pizza Hut brought with it the realization that God had given us the perfect setting to flesh out the very lesson we had just learned at camp. What an amazing gift! Julie Smith Searer North Port