“When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dreamed,” (Ps. 126:1, NIV).

When did we quit dreaming? When the pioneers hit the trail, they did it because they had a dream. They pictured uncharted territories, land of their own, and the freedom to create a life they loved. They knew the risks, but the promise of the reward was greater. Even though they had to leave behind everything that was safe and familiar, still they struck out on the strength of the dream.

So what happened to us? Somewhere along our own Oregon Trail, we started believing the lie that the dream is dead; that it no longer works for people like us. We scroll through our social media feeds and see that everybody else has already arrived at a destination we never even thought to aspire to. We think, what’s the point? Or we hit our own Rocky Mountains and the thought of dragging ourselves up and over that obstacle just doesn’t even seem worth the effort. What’s on the other side anyway?

I have these conversations with myself all the time. I see situations in my own life that I pray about but don’t see any change taking place. I feel left behind, passed over, and pushed aside by a world that measures success in dollars and likes. Dreams feel like such a long shot, and I wonder if I will ever see the fulfillment of promises I was sure God gave me years ago.

Thursday Table

But recently, God began to birth a dream in my heart and mind to begin building the community I so longed for but hadn’t found on a Sunday morning at church. I envisioned women gathering around the table, sharing food, and conversation. Groups that include both men and women can work too, but I felt strongly that God wanted this to be a setting where women felt free to tell their stories and share more deeply than they might in mixed company. At first I hesitated, dreading the rejection I was sure would come. One friend agreed to be on board though, so I bravely soldiered on, sending out text invitations to seven women I thought might be interested. Exactly one was able to come, and although many expressed interest, the voice in my head said, “See. Told you no one else needs friends. Just you.” 

God kept nudging me to be obedient, so after a few months I sent out invitations again, and this time five women came! I made a breakfast casserole, set out supplies for coffee and tea, and lit some candles for ambience. We sat around the table with no agenda, just getting to know each other and laying a foundation of friendship. The second week, a few more women joined the group. Fast forward a few months and we now have a group text that includes 17 women from four different churches, even though usually 10-12 attend any given week. We have graduated from small talk to taking turns sharing our stories. There are tears and laughter as we learn things about each other we would never have known from a casual hello at church.

Bringing it Home

I chose this story to share first because I want to give you permission to dream; to picture friends around your table doing life together; to picture walking into church and getting a hug from a woman who used to be a stranger but, after sitting at your table, is now a friend. Jesus said, “By this, everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another,” (John 13:35, NIV). You guys, the world needs us to love each other. That will be the thing that sets us apart and shows Jesus to everyone around us. In a time when our culture is known for spewing hate, let’s build a new culture of love in the church by bringing it home and gathering around the table!