I met Blair at a park Judy invited me to, and she happened to know Trish from a small group at church. I met Trish on a couch and we swapped life and hearts and eventually spaces in each other's weddings. Trish met Judy at a dinner table on a women's retreat. Judy met Blair, with talks of missions and their daughters. I taught with Judy, heard her prayers with my roommate, nannied with her, and lived in the same building. And all three of the ladies husbands go to the same seminary. Each of the four had intertwined stories but separate relationships, and I figured, hoped, prayed as a four we would blend. So in January, we sat down to supper.
This first meeting was Soup. Judy's "nanny mom" Sara had a soup exchange with friends and Judy relayed the idea. I pondered the concept and built upon it. Each of us made a pot: Trish with her famous chicken noodle, Judy with an Indian soup, Blair with sweet potato chili, and me with white chicken chili. Our pots were mammoth, but so were our hearts. So we came with left over containers, and left with those full as well as our hearts. We sipped soup and shared conversation and talked about life and missions and children and parenting and godliness and schools. Mark walked in at 9:33 and we were still bantering away, tasting fresh bread and talking like school girls.
February brought Trish's. Casserole night spread through her kitchen. Blair's chicken dumplings, Judy's enchiladas, my Smokie Link Casserole, and Trish's chicken 'n rice. We sat at her cozy round table and smelled candles and forked salad and told stories. Blair posed the question: how you knew you wanted to marry your husband, and the chatter began! Each said ours would be short, but once we shared the length grew, as did our excitement and renewed love for our men. The stories made us laugh, prod questions, and poke for more. When Andrew walked in amidst our giggles, silence was quick and we laughed with smirk! At lunch the next day sat Andrew with leftovers, and Micah with his. I sent Mark with his in a lunch packed, and ate mine too, and Trish called the next day to laugh over the whole joy of lefties!
Tonight was Spanish night, in honor of Judy. Her table was set with perfectly made placements by her hand, and lemon spiked the water. We filled our plates, and talked of Spain. I savored her raisien-carrot-cinnamon-pear-chicken dish, and was proud of my Viva Madrid Spanish Chicken served on Blair's Spanish rice. Judy's guest Natalyia platted eggs with tuna filling and eggplant smattered with garlic mayo and tomato. Judy's gazpacho chilled in my side bowl, and Trish's churros dipped in chocolate finished it off. We ate with thoughts and dreams and callings in mind, sharing in the plans of Judy and Natalyia's mission in Spain, and our connected stories of being there. I questioned all the ladies about their "what I don't do" list and read from Shauna Niequist about the "home team". We talked about friendships and life and seasons and love. And I didn't want to leave.
I'm sitting here now wishing so much from these friends, for these friends. These cooking club, conversation, Christ-followers who share in my life once a month at dinner night, and still often too throughout the week. I know very soon, all three ladies will spread and fly, and I will find myself here wishing for them. But right now I am thankful to bloom where we're planted, and grow roots with them and dig deep and make life real and full and tasty, whether spicy, salty, or sweet. They meet with me once a month, and in that, we create space at the table, which honors the table of the King.
Love you! Love Casserole Club :)
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