Last night, we joined fellow bretherns around four large kettles of soup: Potato, Vegetable, White Bean and Ham, and an American version of Italian Wedding Soup.
It was our first time to one of these faithful gatherings. In recent months, we’ve become keenly aware of our place within this congregation of humble believers. Slowly, we are finding our way among them, without a cautious anxiety that seemed to plague our past experiences.
I like slow. I like that we take our time to contemplate our future. How best we should live.
And, I like that we can sit together at God’s table to slurp up some soul-satisfying soup. Even the ‘Irish’ Wedding Soup, hubby declared he was off to find.
“Um, Hubby. The wedding’s in Italy.”