I’m not sure how and when it started exactly. We were serving our first church, and they were members there. Whatever it was, we became fast friends. The wives loved cooking and reading and comparing notes on the raising of their young children. The husbands enjoyed reading, sports and talking politics. The friendship became one of those life-long treasures.
One of the galvanizing ingredients of that friendship was that we shared meals together every Sunday and Wednesday night after church, not to mention another meal or two during the week. After I finished my duties at the church on the "church evenings," I would join the crew awaiting me at the house. A meal would be thrown together, and we sat around the table talking about all kinds of things frivolous and serious. The women enjoyed experimenting with various menus, and the men were more than receptive to their creations.
In fact, even the men got involved on occasion. One Christmas, the wives signed us up for a Chinese cooking school. They weren’t really sure whether we would attend. But we did, and we thoroughly enjoyed it. Consequently, there were occasional evenings when we pulled out the woks to try a new Asian delicacy. Those nights became limited, not by the men’s reluctance to cook, but by the women’s less-than-enthusiastic appreciation of our using every utensil, bowl, and pot in their kitchens!
I really miss those meals, not so much for the culinary joys they were (and they were!), but because of the times around the table where we shared matters of the heart. Those times together helped me grow as a husband, a father, a friend, and a follower of Christ. It’s almost impossible not to mature when you combine good food, good friends and good conversations. Shared tables are one of the tangible graces of a good, good God. I hope you find yourself experiencing that grace today!
One of the galvanizing ingredients of that friendship was that we shared meals together every Sunday and Wednesday night after church, not to mention another meal or two during the week. After I finished my duties at the church on the "church evenings," I would join the crew awaiting me at the house. A meal would be thrown together, and we sat around the table talking about all kinds of things frivolous and serious. The women enjoyed experimenting with various menus, and the men were more than receptive to their creations.
In fact, even the men got involved on occasion. One Christmas, the wives signed us up for a Chinese cooking school. They weren’t really sure whether we would attend. But we did, and we thoroughly enjoyed it. Consequently, there were occasional evenings when we pulled out the woks to try a new Asian delicacy. Those nights became limited, not by the men’s reluctance to cook, but by the women’s less-than-enthusiastic appreciation of our using every utensil, bowl, and pot in their kitchens!
I really miss those meals, not so much for the culinary joys they were (and they were!), but because of the times around the table where we shared matters of the heart. Those times together helped me grow as a husband, a father, a friend, and a follower of Christ. It’s almost impossible not to mature when you combine good food, good friends and good conversations. Shared tables are one of the tangible graces of a good, good God. I hope you find yourself experiencing that grace today!
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