We just returned from a church potluck. (That's my church, up there.) It's been years, I think, since I last attended a potluck. They're a Minnesota Lutheran staple so it seems borderline sacrilegious that I've had such a long hiatus. I've always loved them, growing up they were a frequent staple of our midwestern diet. To this day I still like Jello, not matter what color or how many different kinds of fruit you put in it. But more than the food, I love the community that manifests in the midst. This morning I sat at a table with two of my oldest dearest friends and their kids and couldn't help but take a deep blissful breath and feel like I had just ever-so-gently stepped into real life. As I looked about at the round crappy church tables, the mostly bent and out of shape folding chairs, and the excessively outdated decor of our church basement I realized I had come home...in a way I haven't felt since being a kid. In was in the midst of screaming kids, wrinkly grey haired women, men with really bad cardigans straight out of Mr. Rogers closet, and the friendliest faces I've ever seen and I couldn't imagine anywhere I'd rather be.


  1. That sounds delightful! And Grace Church knows how to do a delicious potluck. Delicious fellowship too.
    So happy for you and for your blissful deep breath.

  2. It was delightful and Grace is aways great no matter what. I pine to have you back here.

  3. I was so happy to see you there today and to sit with you a while. I am reminded how disconnected I become sometimes and am filled up when I reconnect with the important people in my life--like you.

  4. Stephanie,
    It was great to see you too. I can understand the disconnected part too. I need to be better about reaching outside my four walls, I tend so self-elect to be removed from things, but it doesn't always serve me very well.


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