Editor's note: This is the second in a series.

Many years ago, the church that I attended was having an outside concert in the back parking lot. I always liked these outdoor events. 

The gospel of Jesus Christ was never meant to stay inside of four walls. It was a beautiful evening. It was my job to man the grill. I always like to put on a little something special after I cook all the hamburgers and hotdogs. I call it my special stash.

That night, I had a couple packages of chicken thighs. To me, very few foods taste better than meats smoked with charcoal and wood. By now, the sun was beginning to set. I had just dipped the thighs in the barbecue sauce and placed them back on the grill for the sauce and the meat to come together as one. 

Ten minutes later, I had a grand feeling of satisfaction. I knew it was time for some good eating! 

The news of my special stash had spread like a wildfire. The chicken was leaving very fast. Even though it made me feel good to see people enjoying my chicken, I had planned on saving some for lunch the next day. Two packages of thighs had diminished down to three thighs! I grabbed the last three pieces of chicken and took them inside to wrap them in foil. 

As I entered the church, I was headed down the hallway and I noticed the door didn’t shut behind me. I heard footsteps. I turned around to see one of my church brothers who desired some of my chicken. 

I told him to “help himself.” That was a major lie! I wanted those three pieces. He took two thighs and said “Thank you, brother.” 

Can I be honest? I wasn’t real pleased at all. I got some foil out to wrap up my one piece of chicken.

This is where it gets strange. I hid my last piece of chicken in the oven. As I rose up there was a black woman who I had never seen before standing in the doorway of the kitchen. I never heard the door open or shut. 

She was escorted in by a church member. She looked like life hadn’t been very nice to her. Her hair was unsettled. Her clothes looked overly big on her and they were dingy. The church member explained to me that she was looking for something to eat.

I paused for what seemed like an eternity. My flesh was saying, “No way!” However, I could feel the Holy Spirit nudging my heart to say yes. So I smiled and said “sure!” The lady seemed so relieved that she was about to get something to eat.

As much as I wanted that last piece of chicken, it felt good to help someone who had a dire need.

Just two months after the chicken incident, I found myself to have my own dire need. I was short on my electric bill and payday was a week away. 

I asked the billing department to please give me until Friday to pay my bill. They told me that my bill needed to be paid now. I told them that I have a wife and kids at home and that we definitely need to have our electricity on. 

The billing lady looked at me for a moment and said that she needed to talk to her supervisor. As she left the room, I said a quick prayer. The Lord immediately flashed the face of the black woman I had given that last piece of chicken to. I knew that I was going to be all right!

The billing lady reappeared. She let me know that this is not standard operating procedure, but they were going to let me pay my bill on Friday. I will never forget this testimony. 

Not only are we creatures of mercy, but we are to also show mercy to mankind. By displaying mercy to that lady who was hungry, that allowed God to show mercy to me.

I am a firm believer that when we give to people in love we are setting ourselves up to be blessed by God. 

Rev. Ron Moore Jr. is the associate minister at First Corinthian Baptist Church in Frankfort. Contact him at Revronmoore@gmail.com.

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