■ THE MINISTRY OF CHAPLAINS
The waitress said, “Sorry, we’re out.”
“What do you mean, you’re out?” I
asked. Heather tried to convince the waitress
to have some more made, but to no avail.
The look on my grandmother’s face
was one of utter disappointment, and her
eyes began to fill with tears. Our hearts
broke as she said she wanted to leave. So,
without ordering anything, we made the
quiet drive home.
I gave Stinky a hug and a kiss and left
to return to school that night. The follow-
ing morning I got a call from my mom
telling me that Stinky had fallen and was
in the hospital. Within a week, my grand-
mother was gone. She died without get-
ting the potato soup that she knew would
satisfy her hunger.
In my role as an Army chaplain, I see
Potato Soup
many soldiers who have tried everything
this world has to offer and yet they are
hungry for something more. Over time,
the vices they turn to become less and
for the Soul
less appetizing and the toxicity of this
world deadens their taste buds, leaving
them hungry for the only thing that will
truly satisfy them, the “bread of life”
by MEGAN HODGE some potato soup from the Cracker Barrel (John 6:35). Most of my soldiers have
■
would taste good right now.” heard about this satisfying soul food
W
HEN MY grandmother, fond- As quickly as possible, Stinky, my friend before, but say that when they went to
ly referred to as Stinky, was Heather, and I loaded into the car and head- church to find it, the church was “all out”
diagnosed with lymphatic ed to the local Cracker Barrel. The whole and offered them a side order of judg-
cancer, initially she was the same crazy ride there Stinky didn’t stop talking about ment instead.
person—dancing around her living room, how good that soup was going to taste and We as Christ’s church and we who are
making up little songs, and cooking up a that it was the only thing in months that chaplains cannot afford to run out of a
mean storm. actually sounded good to her. When we fresh word for those whom God puts in
I was attending seminary in Cleve- pulled into the parking lot, I asked her if she our paths. I see my job as one who is
land, Tennessee, so most every weekend I
“IN MY ROLE AS AN ARMY CHAPLAIN, I SEE MANY
would make the trip to the Cumberland
Mountains to visit her. As time passed
SOLDIERS WHO HAVE TRIED EVERYTHING THIS
and her chemotherapy treatments
WORLD HAS TO OFFER AND YET THEY ARE HUNGRY
increased, her energy, her creativity, and
FOR SOMETHING MORE.” —MEGAN HODGE
her desire to cook dwindled. was sure she felt strong enough to go inside, there with “soup” for my soldiers when-
In July 2002, my grandmother was and, with cane in hand, she said nothing ever and wherever they may need it.
enduring yet another round of was going to stop her now. Whether in the comfort of my office or in
chemotherapy. She was still pretty The hostess noticed my grandma’s the middle of a combat zone, I will go
mobile, but the chemo affected her taste frail condition and seated us close to the where my soldiers go, ready to dish out
buds, leaving her with no appetite. So my door. When she tried to hand us the soul food, leading them to the One who
weekend visits often centered on trying menus, my grandmother looked at her can satisfy their every need.
to find some kind of food that would and said, “I don’t need one, sweetie; I
appeal to her. already know what I am going to order.” Army Chaplain (Cpt.) Megan
One Saturday I was sitting with Stinky When the waitress arrived to take our Hodge has been assigned to the
on the couch listing off every type of orders, Stinky said with the enthusiasm 3d Infantry Division, Fort Stew-
food I could think of when, with a sud- of a child, “I would like a cup of potato art, Georgia, following a one-
den perk of enthusiasm, she said, “I think soup, please.” year tour of duty in Iraq.
20 EVANGEL • AUG 2009
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