It started one year ago with a whisper in my spirit, a pot of beans and rice, and an overloaded Mazda. And it just keeps getting better.
I look forward to Sunday Lunch every week. The people I call family pile in; we play the Thankful Game; and we go to church together. Then we all come back to my place and share a picnic meal together.
We've experienced popsicles and mastered the slip-and-slide. We've made mistakes, and learned how to extend healthy discipline. We’ve walked through tragedies, and celebrated milestones. We all have a role, all have a job, but, most importantly, we all have a place on the picnic blanket – and we won’t start eating until everybody’s there.
It’s just an afternoon…
But it’s changed me.
And it’s changed Family.
Mamas play with babies.
Children feel valuable.
Starving bodies metabolize nutrients.
Empty eyes dance with joy.
The ungrounded grow roots.
The invisible develop attachments.
The orphaned pray to the Father.
The vulnerable unify around a blanket and break bread.
All from just an afternoon.
This week, I was blown away by the realization that we’ve shared a year of Sunday lunches. I watched God’s handiwork giggle, glow and slide. His dreams dancing with mine… in real life, right before my undeserving eyes.
I felt His whisper again.
It’s not finished yet, this glorious work He lets me cook for.
So, I’m telling Him I believe Him by posting a gaggle of photos – yes, a gaggle.
Thank You photos. Testimony photos. And We Believe There’s More photos.
|The back seat view of the Condor... 15 people in the 7-seater car this week.|
|Front seat with Candis|
He hasn’t brought us this far for nothing, friend.
There have been hundreds of hours of dirty work, some really gross moments before those bodies learned how to keep the nutrients in, and days we had to learn discipline before delight. Even now, I feel maxed out – with no more space in the car, no fenced in backyard, and not enough cups and bowls.
But He just has to lean in and whisper, “There’s more.” Our God with higher ways and greater love is molding Sunday Lunch to look more like His Church and His Kingdom…
When He whispers it, it’s never just an afternoon. No matter how many hours, how many afternoons, how many years it takes… No matter how many pots of beans or whatever it is He’s whispered to you about… There’s more.