Last night, in the middle of getting some dessert for my honey, there was a firm knock on the front door. We weren’t expecting anyone, and it was well past getting a delivery time. I checked out the window to see two people. I opened the door cautiously (sad that we live in a world that we have to be wary of strangers) to find a man and woman standing there. They asked if this is where My honey lived. I’m sure they saw the puzzled look of surprise on my face. Maybe a client who tracked him down? I said yes, invited them into the house and asked if I might get their names. I went upstairs to where my hubby was watching the Final Four games he had taped (to fast forward through commercials). He also had a puzzled look on his face. We went downstairs and they re-introduced themselves, explaining that they had met us briefly when we hosted our Yom Teruah/Day of Trumpets gathering back in September.
Each year we host this gathering of friends, our spiritual family, to watch and wait for the return of Yeshua/Jesus. We eat some pretty amazing potluck dishes, hang around and visit with each other until we can start looking for the sliver of the new moon. The excitement builds as parents point their kids to look in the right direction. When one of the kids sees it, we blow a cacophonous noise of rams horns and plastic kiddie horns. Once the sun truly sets and it begins to cool, the adults head inside while the kids play outside. Over the past few years our gathering has outgrown our home.
Back to our guests. This past year, we had many unfamiliar faces arriving at our home. A friend, of a friend had invited them. They came as strangers, left as family. But, with that many people (100+), there are bound to be some you don’t really get to know. As the hostess, kitchen duty often keeps me out of the mainstream gathering area. Our guests were among those who attended, but we didn’t get to really know. We got comfortable in the living room and began to talk. That was at 7:30. When our black cat started coming down the stairs, I knew it was close to 10pm. I almost told my honey that “it must be getting late, our bedtime reminder alarm just came down the stairs.” She is a cat of routine, and she lets us know when she is ready to settle in for the night. When texts began to arrive from their eldest child at home, around 11:15pm, we all decided to end our sweet time of visiting. And it was truly a sweet time.
Conversation meandered through how each couple met, what led us all to live in this area, has anyone studied the topic of the new moon, homeschooling, loss of children, and more. Although it “disrupted” our routine, it made me remember a time, when I was younger, that people would pop by someone’s house for a visit just because they were in the neighborhood. That is something I enjoy doing. And, as the recipient of such visit, I was not inconvenienced, nor frustrated with any time lost. I was thoroughly blessed to make new friends!
Real “face time”, in person talking. Yes, it takes time, yes, there are other things you could be doing. But, in the long run, is it not the relationships we build that count? The people whose lives we touch by a hug when they share the loss of a family member, or by offering free eggs from our chickens because we have an abundance. How many times have I been truly ministered to with the exact bit of wisdom I needed about raising kids, or dealing with an emotion only after an hour of seemingly surface talk with a friend or family member? I will always treasure last night’s visit, and pray it inspires others to do the same. Take the time.