Whenever my Dad said, “We’re going out to dinner.” it was HUGE deal. We rarely went out to dinner because, first, we lived on military income, second, my Dad was very particular about the cleanliness in how his food is prepared but most of all, because my Mom is an incredible cook!
I can actually count the number of times we actually went OUT to dinner.
We went to the local fancy Italian restaurant about four times. There were two or three times we went to the local Hardees because it was new and the only thing in town. I was about 10 years old and remember after finishing our burgers and my Dad looking at us with a huge grin and just like Sheriff Andy Taylor, he asked; “Would you girls like one of those hot apple pies for dessert?!!” (We never assumed that we could also get dessert!)
Yes Sir!
But what I don’t know is how many times and how many people were invited over to our house for dinner over the years. People, all kinds of people, were always at our house. The young Marines that Dad was mentoring (although they didn’t know it at the time), teenage girls running away from home, Officers celebrating a promotion, and band members and their families. Yep, my Dad played steel guitar and was even offered a job as a studio musician in Nashville - but that’s another story.
One New Years Day, Mom told Dad to “invite the entire Motor Pool!” He did. Young Mariens came all day from around noon until 11pm as Mom cooked teriyaki beef kabobs, sushi rolls, , potato salad, olives, Japanese cucumber salad, cakes, pies, variety of chips and dips and sukiyaki going fresh all day and night with thin sliced beef, Chinese cabbage, bamboo shoots, bean spouts, and green onions with rice.
The picture is the day my Dad came home from Vietnam. Even as a tough Marine Drill Sargent, my Dad was a huge softy for anyone who felt left out, lonely or was being ostracized. The solution was always to open our home and share meals.
With the recent murder of George Floyd and so many before him, we are talking a lot in our home about what can we do and what have we done to help change racial division. Unfortunately, I have to admit, not much when my heart breaks seeing my brothers and sisters rightfully angry and hurting because of so much injustice because of the color of their skin.
This was not how I was raised!
Maybe it was because of the racial hurts against my family because Dad married a Japanese woman.
Maybe my parents understood at a deep level what it felt like to be seen different, treated different and my Mom called at as not worthy. Heck, I was called a “half-breed” and my Dad was told that my brain would not work properly and so I would never go to college.
When I was about 6 years old, I remember Dad announcing that we were going to dinner to our neighbors across the street. We always had people over to OUR house so this was extra special!!! I will never forget Dad’s reply when I asked him; “Why are we going to someone else’s house?”
“Because there are a bunch of stupid people who are treating them badly just because he is black and he married a Filipino woman. We won’t stand for that. So we will go there and I don’t care what people think or what they will say. He is my friend.”
My Dad, my Mom, my younger sister and I walked across the street for dinner.
For family.
For goodness.
For one another.
Today, I took a long, hard look at the people in my life to see who doesn’t look like me or Dean. I found people younger than us and older than us and those who are at seasons of life. But what about race?
Being half Japanese, I thought I would know better and do better.
But ask yourself, as I had to ask myself;
“When was the last time I truly engaged and developed relationships with anyone from another race. And especially black people?”
Many of us are asking what can we DO? I’ve seen a post that lists 75 things we can and most of it revolves around getting educated. To read and listen. Listen to understand and be heard. Yes and Amen to education!
And, YES to doing simple, human things.
Invite someone to your home for dinner. Someone who doesn’t look like you at all.
To your messy house.
To your rowdy house.
To your small or big house.
To eat a sandwich or fried rice.
That is what is on the menu at our house tomorrow night.
Fried rice with a new couple we barely know but attend the same church. We have passed by one another briefly before the quarantine hit.
I heard his pain on Social Media. We messaged one another to encourage one another and share we can’t wait for church to open again so we can really connect and talk. But, I’m tired of waiting. We have to be tired and fed up with waiting!!!!
We must DO something now.
So they are are coming to dinner!!! I cannot wait to hear their story and their heart and lean into whatever it is they need us to lean into. I’m keeping my hands open.
Our God is love and He is crazy focused on restoring our relationship with Him.
And Hey! We have the opportunity to be crazy focused on restoring our relationships with one another.
Seem too simple?
Just a meal?
Jesus talked about meals and “did meals” all the time. He was the bread. JOHN 6:35: “Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
Jesus multiplied the bread to feed the crowd.
Simply bread.
Simply gather.
Simply Jesus.
For ALL the people.