Last Saturday, the women at the church held a potluck brunch, designed hand-in-hand with a service project. A long banqueting table of rough wood stood in the center of the room, set up to gather the food as women arrived one by one, bearing edible gifts. Soon another table had to be set up to accommodate even more contributions to the abundant feast.
I was amazed at the variety of platters and bowls, the creativity in how the food was artistically arranged, and even in the vastness of what was brought to the table: big bowls of colorful fruit, a large green salad, and a parade of egg casseroles of every imaginable flavor including one topped with tater tots. Some women brought plastic bags of bagels and store-bought donuts, crackers and hummus. One woman grasped the opportunity to try a new recipe, a made-from-scratch blueberry buckle, slices of which disappeared even before the blessing. Aromatic muffins, sausage roll-ups, cinnamon rolls, and even cute little heart-shaped pink pancakes filled in the gaps.
Every woman contributed in one form or another. And in her own little way. Somehow, as potlucks mysteriously do, the meal melded together with each added dish. Once again God’s fundamental law of leftovers was manifested with the proverbial twelve baskets to take home.
Each woman saw the opportunity a little differently. And that completed the meal.
We all came together, filling and fulfilling different needs, desires and hungers. Some arrived with more artistic touches, some with the practical, others with a healthy intent, and those who spread icing until it dripped over the sides.
That is what community looks like, nurturing each other through our own unique giftedness.
And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. Hebrews 10. 24-25
We stir up one another, not just to do and pursue, but to bring something different to the table, encouraging each other in ways beyond our comprehension.
We all also bring something different to prayer. When there is a need or opportunity to pray, we each pray with a little different perspective, vision, passion and compassion. We approach prayer with hearts that have been healed, tweaked and transformed through many wounds and wonders. And that brings a multi-faceted completion to how we come to the Father. With tears and rejoicing, praying the practical, or words too deeply felt to be spoken, seeing every dimension of the need with eyes of different colors and mended hearts, we pray in our places in awe of who the Almighty is and what He can do.
God aligns our hearts in ways so we can respond personally. I’ll pray differently than the person next to me. We see a lot more of God’s glory that way. And it enlarges the scope of our prayers. When it comes down to it, there will be not a singular voice of praise, but a chorus. We all get to rejoice and share in what God unfolds before us, and always in that which extends far beyond our lifetimes.
When we choose not to pray, we all miss out.
Praying together, we encompass a need from all sides, every angle and square inch covered, each one of us carrying a pound or two of someone else’s burden, each one seeing how God is working, and each one sharing in His glory.
May we bring our prayers to the storehouse and the altar. May we pull up our chairs and come together to the table. May we join in what is now and what is to come. No matter how the situation takes shape, His grace is deeply embedded in the feast. We ultimately love others by praying for them. And His glory overflows to embrace us as well.
And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this? Esther 4. 14
That’s why God put us here.
Here to pray. Here to be faithful in our own little ways.
And God brings His triumph to it, not just in a few visible crumbs, but a feast in extraordinary proportions.
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