First Dinner Guest

We invited the family to come eat dinner at our house, and they said they'd love to! Yeah! This would be my first dinner guest. Because of the dad's kidney stone the doctor told him he could eat no spicy food for a month (which is very hard to do here). So, the mom and dad reminded me two times each not to make spicy food. I planned to make my Thai curry if I ever had them come for dinner because that's the spiciest meal I make, which is usually a good thing. But, with the request of no spice, I decided on stir fry over rice, and some roti, which is the bread they like to eat with every meal. 

When they arrived I noticed the girls were dressed very nice, and the mom even had on lipstick and a new outfit. I love how they dolled up they get for outings! They liked looking around because they hadn't seen our place since all of the furniture arrived. The kids especially loved playing in Elijah's room and jumping in and out of his bed (Neal and I were not in the room while they were doing that, we just walked in on them). 

I had everyone sit at the table (the two youngest shared a chair so that there would be enough) and told them we were going to eat American style all together. I gave them all a fork, which they don't use often if at all, but told them I also had roti that they could eat their food with. Then I brought out the food, Neal said the blessing, and I told them how we normally ate this meal, but that they could do it anyway they liked. 

The mom served each of the kids and herself while I went around the table giving cucumbers and tomatos to whoever wanted them (they always have cucumbers and tomatos with their meals, so I did as well). The mom served a very small amount to everyone, like the size we serve Elijah. I knew she did this because they'd never had the food before and she didn't want to be wasteful. The dad said it was his first time to have American food and he seemed to be looking forward to it.

Everyone started eating and I noticed that after one or two bites the family was just stirring the food around on their plates and not eating it. They were all looking down and at each other but never looking at Neal or I. Then the dad spoke up and said he didn't like it. He said it was different from Indian food, and to quote him exactly, "I no like, it's different, different food. Don't like it." And that was the end of everyone eating the meal. 

My heart sank inside of me as I bit my bottom lip to help push back the tears that wanted to flood from my eyes. Neal said to me three times, "This is so embarrassing, do we not have any food to serve them that they will eat?" After a little while Neal went into the kitchen and brought out an Indian snack that almost everyone serves guest, but not many people actually eat it themselves because it's just cheap. This day, however, they poured a pile on their plates and used the fork to eat it all.

Neal and I took everyones plate to the kitchen. Neal could tell I was hurt and when he approached me about it to say he was sorry for them not eating I almost lost it. I had to hold in my emotion harder than I remember holding it in before. I told him I had ice cream for desert and some toppings they could pick from. Again he asked if there was anything else I could serve them so that they could eat some food before giving them ice cream. I let out part of what I was feeling to Neal there in the kitchen...I'd worked hours on the meal and used everything I had to serve them...it wasn't my fault they weren't eating, and I felt like it was rude, so no, I didn't have anything else to serve them that was it. I didn't speak much more knowing my insides couldn't take it until they'd left.

We served everyone a bowl full of ice cream and they ate it down to the last drop...I was glad I could give them something they liked. Then we played a couple of hands of UNO before they went home.

Once they were gone I knew the flood gates were going to open. I picked up Elijah, got his bottle ready, and went in his room to rock him to sleep and just cried. All I wanted to do was rock my baby, sing 'The Old Rugged Cross' and cry...and that's what I did. I told the Lord (and Neal later) how I prepared the meal for hours to have it perfect to serve them. Also that I was raised in a family where you eat what is sat before you and you say thank you regardless of if you like it or not, which is what they want their guest to do as well. I knew it would shame them if I rejected their food and after two bites just stirred it around on my plate. However, I always ate their food, regardless of if it's my favorite or even if I liked it, and I always got seconds of something because I knew that pleased the mom. I didn't understand. It hurt so much...and they are my dear friends...I want to serve them and eat at each others house, but that's obviously not going to happen I knew.

After pouring my heart out to the Lord there in the dark of Elijah's room, I began singing 'The Old Rugged Cross' again. I felt a new thankfulness for what Christ did as I listened to the words resounding on my heart that was hurting. "On a hill far away, stood an old rugged cross, the emblem of suffering and shame..." My hurt, suffering, shame, was nothing compared to Jesus'. It made me "...cherish the old rugged cross..." so much more.