Closing One Mouth to Feed Another

I recently moved from Marina Del Rey to Silver Lake, and I really love it out here.  I love it so much that I’ve even been bragging to friends recently that there isn’t really much I miss about the West Side.  There’s less traffic out here, the neighbors here actually want to meet you and say hello, and everything is so much cheaper.  The reservoir is beautiful to walk around, and there’s so many neighborhoods nearby to explore.  But if there’s one thing I miss about the West Side, more than the beach, more than the weather, more than anything, it’s Bay Cities Italian Deli.

Now before you laugh, anyone who’s eaten there knows that a sandwich from Bay Cities isn’t just a sandwich, it isn’t just an institution, it’s a dream fulfilled.  Which is why when I found myself all the way out in Santa Monica on Saturday afternoon, I just had to - no needed to - get a sandwich from Bay Cities.

[click “Read More” below to continue]

I even planned it out first thing when I woke up in the morning.  I knew I had to be out in Santa Monica to see a location for wedding planning, so I used Bay Cities’ website to order a sandwich for pickup at 3pm.  I was excited because it had been months since I’d had one.

Fast forward to 3pm.  It was almost time to pick up my long lost sandwich, the golden fleece of sandwiches, but I was still feeling a bit full from breakfast for some reason.  So I delicately placed the chosen one sandwich in a bag, and kept it close to me at all times like precious cargo.

I went to the Jiffy Lube in Sunset Junction for a long overdue oil change, and as they were changing my oil, I couldn’t help it anymore.  I had to have my beloved long distance Bay Cities sandwich.  I unwrapped the paper wrapping, picked up the first half, and just as I was about to swallow my first bite, my jaw completely locked.  It was so painful, and my jaw just wouldn’t move.

It popped out of alignment, in just that pivotal moment.  There I was, golden fleece sandwich in hand, and my jaw wasn’t able to move.  For those of you who’ve had braces or experienced TMJ you know how painful it is.  And how no matter what you do, you just can’t eat in those moments where your jaw is locked.

Those who know me, know that there are very very few things to keep me from eating my food.  Especially food that I love, and food that takes over an hour to drive for, and food that I get to eat once in a blue moon.  But for once - I was completely stymied.  Without my jaw, no amount of lusting after that sandwich could put it in my eager stomach.  It was so weird because it had literally been years since I’d had TMJ or lock jaw.

Frustrated, I wrapped the paper back up in a huff.  “Fine, I’ll just eat it later,” I thought.  Undeterred, I carried that sandwich with me like it was my lifeline.  Into this store.  Into that store.  If they didn’t let sandwiches in, I wasn’t going in.

Eventually, as I was walking past the corner of Sanborn Ave and Sunset I saw a homeless man standing at the corner, trying to fish a coin out of his pocket.  My first reaction, as always, was to avoid him and spin past quickly so I could keep going.  But after I passed him, God convicted me and made me turn around for some reason.

“Excuse me, Sir,” I inquired.  No response.  “Excuse me,” I said again.  He still didn’t turn around or look up.  Finally I had to stand literally right in front of him to get his attention.  I don’t blame him though.  I think one of the saddest things about the homeless in our city is that we so often treat them less than human that they aren’t even used to strangers stopping to talk to them on the street.  When they hear a voice calling, maybe it doesn’t even come to mind that you are trying to talk to them, to actually engage them like a person for once.

In any case, I was standing right in front of him, so he looked up at me, a little confused expression on his face.

“Hey I’m sorry to bother you,” I said, looking him in the eyes, “but I was just wondering if maybe you were hungry.”

“Um, yea…yeah!” he said, at first a bit slow to warm up.  “Yeah sure what you got?”

“I don’t know if you’ve ever had a sandwich from Bay Cities,” I said.  “But it’s all the way from Santa Monica.  It’s basically the best sandwich in L.A.  I think you’ll really like it.  Can I give it to you?”

“Oh wow, thanks,” he said, taking the bag from my outstretched hand. 

I felt the Holy Spirit wash over me as I let my precious sandwich go.  It was like the Lord was smiling on me that I’d finally learn to love like He does.

“I’m really sorry,” I continued, “but I took one bite out of it.  I wish I could’ve given you a brand new sandwich.  I hope you don’t mind.  Seriously, it’s really really good.  I promise.”

“It’s okay,” he said, a smile on his face.  “Yeah it’s fine, thanks.”  He was peering into the bag.

“What’s your name?” I asked, offering my hand for a handshake.

“Al,” he said.

“Al, nice to meet you man.  God bless you.  It’s really nice to meet you.”  And with that, I left and continued walking down the street. 

I couldn’t help but think as I was walking how awesome our God is.  That when He knows one of His own is hungry, down and out, and needs to eat, he might even allow another to have lockjaw out of the blue for the first time in years - for no reason - right in that very moment.  That He would somehow close one mouth that doesn’t need it to feed another that does.  How amazing His provision.  How amazing His love.  And even for the least of us.  The ones we want to forget.  The ones we want to avoid.  That even the least of us is a son, and the Father will only give him the very best.

In the moment I handed over the sandwich bag to Al, there was a station wagon stopped at the intersection.  The girl in the passenger’s seat had her window down because of the heat, and she must have heard our conversation.  She had the hugest smile on her face - like something had moved her.  As her boyfriend drove off, she kept turning her head to look back at us with a glow.

I think this is how God intends to defeat the works of the enemy, by grace and by reckless love.  That if we encounter true grace (unmerited favor) or if we experience or witness it in another, it is so powerful, so overwhelming, that you can’t help but pass it along to the next person.

Who knows what that girl ended up doing as she drove off, or when she got home.  But the love of the father left a mark on her.  And he left a mark on me.  All it took was letting go of a sandwich.