In the days after our first baby was born, a family from church delivered a red basket full of sub sandwich makings -- bread and cheeses, meats and mustards -- a smorgasbord of goodness.
It was a humbling experience -- to open our doors and receive a gift of nourishment and love. (Thanks Reiersons!)
Beware of side note:
Now that I look back, it's almost odd that we received only one meal -- we were woven into two church families at the time. And with babies number two and three, in a different congregation, only one non-MOPS church family brought us a meal both times -- -- Our Bible study group just recently had a conversation about this too -- no one offered to bring a meal to a church member, a friend, who had recent surgery. Not even us! Her Bible study partners! Not even me. Terrible. This is something we really could work on. . . I should work on.
But back to the root of the story:
Baby number two brought a handful of frozen dinners one day -- gifts from MOPS mamas.
But the real grace poured out with baby number three -- when seven different MOPS families brought a warm meal to our door -- ready to eat at that moment. Fresh . . . warm . . . like breaking bread together -- sharing a table across town -- becoming a community -- a family -- through a meal . . .
The outpouring of hospitality was immense -- and humbling
a free gift
that you don't know how to say thank you enough.
That's grace.
Isn't it?
I'm ready to share that grace with others.
I hope I don't forget.
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