Iz (my husband's nickname) would be getting home from the office a little later than usual so preparing dinner was put off until a bit later than usual, too. With a few extra minutes to spare during the early evening I'd tried calling my Mom a couple of times, just to say hello and see how she's feeling this week, but her line had been busy so I busied myself with a few household chores.
After tossing in another load of laundry and emptying the dishwasher, at around seven or so, I put on the water to begin cooking our new favorite, whole wheat, pasta. It was especially great kitchen time because while chopping some garlic for the quick, semi homemade sauce on the menu, I talked with Mike who was unwinding a bit, playing XBox in the adjoining family room. I cherish whatever time I get to have talking with my kids.
Just after I removed the pasta from the stove and drained it, Bear-bear (our beloved four-legger) barked his most intense wake up entire world, can't you see that somebodies at the door, bark.
Startled and a little bugged by being interrupted at such a crucial time during pasta dinner making, (you know how the pasta keeps cooking and begins sticking together like a pasty mess if you don't get it drained and tossed with some olive oil or sauce, right away) I begrudgingly peeked my head around the kitchen entry to steal a look towards the front door as to determine which of the kids needed to stop what they were doing to meet and greet the untimely visitors.
My stolen peek left me wondering what was going on through the frosted glass as all that I could make out from where I was standing were three unfamiliar, adult figures.
Grabbing Bear-bear's collar, he and I tripped and scurried anxiously towards the strangers at our door.
With Bear-bear's head peeking out between my legs and the doorframe though firmly blocked from going any further to 'greet' the visitors by my strategically placed protruding right leg, I put on my nicest smile that one digs out from storage for all such stranger meeting circumstances. The folks at the door, one woman and two men of varying ages, wore their very best, let's dazzle the stranger, smiles, too.
Once confirming that I was the correct Renee who had filled out a visitor card,"Trinity", the man in the front continued, "You visited Trinity Church last week and we're stopping by to say thank you for visiting and hoping to talk awhile with you and your husband in order to answer any questions you may want to ask about the church."
While saying his greeting, the front man held out a white plastic grocery bag that had the church's logo neatly printed on it, as if the church were a huge chain like Winn Dixie, Publix or Walmart. The bag had a neat little card attached with curly red ribbon, adorned with that same logo and a tastefully printed word or two thanking us for visiting the church.
Exuding pleasantries the best I could while greeting unexpected strangers at the door,
holding back my kill them with love dog,
wanting desperately for Iz to pull in the driveway to rescue me
while imagining my pasta now resembling something similar to the surface of the moon,
I chatted away with the bag holding visitors.
I assured them that we were planning to visit again as we are in search of a better fitting church for us, one more like the one my husband and I were raised in. I told them how much we had enjoyed the services we've attended so far and that we were definitely planning to attend this week, too.
The woman in the group said they should let me get back to my dinner and assured the men that it was a bad time to visit when someone is in the midst of preparing dinner and that they needed to let me get back to what I'd been doing before they'd arrived.
After closing the door, the kids were waiting for me when I returned to the kitchen, loaded with fifty questions re the visit. We opened the bag to find a beautifully presented fresh loaf of what I think is referred to as potato bread, it's the kind that has that lovely soft white dusting of flour over the top of the golden brown crust.
Prior to the visit the bread for our dinner was going to be finishing off the perhaps a little bit on the stale side but still edible, wholewheat loaf I'd sliced and taken with us to the beach two days earlier. Following the visit, we would be eating soft and squishy, just like Iz and Mike prefer it, freshly baked, beautiful bread. (Sydney and I are partial to bread that has a crusty outer edge that adds a little crunch.)
What's so big about a loaf of bread showing up at dinnertime and when in the world am I going to get to the point of why I'm sharing this story with you?
Well, for one thing, God knows what we need and sometimes he provides what we need as literally as this loaf of fresh bread showing up at my house while I'm setting the table for a later than usual, pasta dinner. Sometimes God does things that are incredibly timed and instantly gratifying, like front door delivery of freshly baked bread.
Next, the reason Joe and I are planning on returning to this church is due to the love we sensed among the church members and this bread drop was another example of the kindnesses we saw happening at the church. Before, during and after the service, people were hugging, smiling, waving across the room and huddling together as if everyone actually enjoyed the company of the other. Young, old and everyone in between seemed to be included in the love fest and quite a few people even extended their hand to us to say hello and they seemed to be doing so because they wanted to rather than because they knew it was the 'right' thing to do.
Finally, Iz and I both had walked away from the service we had visited at Trinity feeling spiritually met in a way that I believe every human being has a humongous hunger for. It's an indescribable type of hunger other than that it is this type of hunger that can be satisfied for a moment but quickly leaves you wanting to grab a fresh plate and head up to get a second helping, kind of like I always feel after eating Chinese food, I'm full for a while but can always find room to eat just a little bit more.
Thank you, God,
for the intricate yet simple ways
that you embed your presence in the days
of those who express
their desire for more of you.
Today, declare this: I’ve made up my mind I am not going to waste any of my days. I’m going to celebrate each day as a gift from God. Joel Osteen
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