I walked in the
front door of my church at 9:55 and headed to a college bible study class. We
pored over Romans 6, prayed together, and dreamed about how to serve our church
body and the surrounding community. Then, at 11 we wrapped up and joined the
congregation in the sanctuary for worship and the sermon. We sang, heard the message,
and prayed together, and if the church part of my day had ended here, I
wouldn’t have been disappointed in any way. I had learned, praised, and
fellowshipped with my church family and now I would head back out into the
world renewed by some time with God.

BUT WAIT! DID
SOMEONE SAY IT WAS POTLUCK SUNDAY?!?!

    Heck yes! We all
headed for the food and sat in the church basement as delicious scents wafted
by. I sat at the table with older couples, young families with toddlers,
teenagers, and widowed grandmothers around me, and we ate homemade lasagna,
meatballs, salad, and cookies, laughing and talking about whatever we wanted. I
heard stories about war, about shoveling the snow, about grandchildren and
children, and I told about my family, my home, and my hopes. And as I sat there
I realized that it was in this context that I truly interacted with this new
family of mine. Yes, we had all listened to the sermon
together and spent this Sunday and others sitting in adjacent pews exchanging
hugs and handshakes, but here we could love each other in a tangible way over a
good meal.

    As I left, an
older woman I had been talking with walked out with me. She had told me about
her husband who had recently died, her daughter who owned a bakery, and her
beautiful granddaughter, and as we pushed past the door she turned to me. “I’m
going to be your grandmother here in Spokane, Katie,” she said as she hugged
me. We said goodbye and all I could think about was how much love she held in
her heart for a college girl she met barely an hour before. At times it is easy
to forget that our one to three hours on Sunday isn’t always true fellowship. When
we invest in the lives of those around us and love our many brothers, sisters,
and grandmothers we experience the joy of family. That is why I love the
Church; they are my family in the best sense of the word.

Kate