Potluck of Friends

Potluck equals many friends getting together, each bringing a different dish; some specializing in desserts, others in salads or soups. Apparently it has been some time since I have been to a potluck since hummus is now a crowd pleaser. Lynnette loves it. Her kids love it. I feel horrible that I mentioned my disdain for the smashed chickpea delicacy because she changed her mind to make a soup the morning of our lunch… in addition to the hummus that, by the way, was a huge hit. I am a picky eater but have definitely come a long way from the way my eating patterns used to be. I surprised myself by eating Kerri’s spinach strawberry salad and Echo’s pulled pork sandwiches on  homemade buns; yummy. I don’t typically enjoy potlucks because I am such a picky eater and never know what is in something and am too embarrassed to ask anyone; “Excuse me….did you make this? Um, what is this and what’s in it? Do you think I would like it?” I am a creature of habit and find myself eating the same twenty things I have eaten for the last twenty years; still using the old “I don’t like it” response even if I have never tried something. (Although…for the record, I have actually tried hummus and didn’t like it).

Sadly, my fear of stepping out of the box isn’t limited to food. I used to fear the unknown or rejection. I guess I still do but now I have a lot less anxiety about it. It is a running joke that the relationship I have with Jesus is truly like a child having an imaginary friend. When I find myself in an awkward situation I literally pray under my breath. When I pray it is really a conversation I have with Jesus more than an “official prayer.” The bracelets that once sported W.W.J.D are definitely something I live by. “What Would Jesus Do?” Hmmm….. He probably would have eaten the hummus; especially hummus made by one of your best friends at a lunch commemorating your Homecoming. Jesus was quick to remind me that that the potluck among friends was truly about Him and all that happened in the last six months because of his plan. The food and who brought what; what was in each menu item….all secondary. As I sat at the dining room table surrounded by friends and dinner and dessert items aplenty; I exhaled. I remembered a time when I only dreamed of being in a room with my friends again. I remember chatting with Jesus and wondering what it would be like; to tell the story of what he and I had been through; to share the ups and the downs of the last six months. It was completely surreal to sit amongst them and be able to tell “our” story instead of living it… scary, lonely, sad, hopeful, anxious, excited, and expectant.

With each story told, I could see the face of each woman I met and either impacted or was impacted by; some not speaking any English or just choosing not to speak; fear of offending someone. Other women that crossed my path were extremely remorseful for their actions while others were just doing their time and waiting to get out and reoffend, but being careful not to get caught this time. As I sat in a suburban dining room surrounded by friends, I remembered a time I sat around a different dining table surrounded by an entirely different set of women; Jesus with me on both occasions and being completely comfortable in either. As my friends asked about specifics of the women I met, I was sad. I wondered where they were as I dined with my closest of friends. Some of those women accepted their own relationship with Jesus while I was with them. Were they still living with him? Had they kept the bible or books I gave to them? Did they remember me as I sat and remembered them?

I haven’t been one to like potlucks and others embrace them. But… when I was in California I made a commitment to change things a bit and get out of my comfort zone; Lynnette and Linda planning this lunch was only the beginning and I now have a whole new respect for potlucks; the friendship…the fellowship....the food; in that order. Each woman was as individual as the dishes they brought; not like the sayings of “you are what you eat” or “pets resembling their owners” because Lynnette is much cuter than the hummus she brought….as well as the soup. But individuals just as God made us; each with a different purpose and plan that only He knows.

I am thankful for the changes I have experienced and look forward to more potlucks; literally and metaphorically speaking. I love the opportunities that Christ puts before me and feel more than blessed at the people he continually surrounds me with. I can't help but giggle and wonder if the Last Supper was a potluck. I am certain that no one was wondering who brought what and what was in each dish; but instead understood the magnitude of breaking bread with their closest of friends and enjoying what each had to offer….before, during, and after.