We had a potluck on Sunday. Our bilingual group at church does that once a month. It’s part of who we are. When I get to describe it to people, I try to stress that it’s not something we do after worship; it’s an extension of our worship.
We had a bunch of visitors on Sunday. A few arrived near the end of service (time confusion?), so their main activity on Sunday was our lunch.
One lady that placed membership in “big church” last Sunday came to our potluck and brought her husband. It was his first time at church.
I’m glad these people saw a potluck as part of their first impression of our church.
It was loud.
It was crazy, with kids running everywhere.
Some of the food was great. Some was… well, it was food.
We had store-bought fried chicken and lots of homemade Mexican food. Some of it was so spicy that it needed to come with a warning label. (I’m not complaining!)
It was mildly chaotic, like a big family reunion.
It was church.
I’m not sure when I’ll get to write it, but the work that has been on my heart for a while is about the church and food. So even if I’m not able to write on this topic in book form, I can keep exploring it here on the blog.