Sunday Dinner

I love to have people come to my home on Sunday for dinner. I love preparing a menu that is colorful and full of texture. I love to look up and see many around my table laughing, eating and revealing little bits of themselves. After B was called to be the bishop, we stopped entertaining on Sunday because it was already a very full, very demanding day for him. Now four years later, he is ready to open our home up again to these events. Not one to waste any time, I have had people over each week since. I even arranged for a potluck each fast Sunday starting in September.
I don't have fancy china or beautiful bowls. I don't have matching water goblets nor formal silver. I don't usually prepare complicated recipes. I don't - or really I should say can't - set a beautiful looking table like my friend CH. I don't serve up each plate but rather set all the food out in bowls and let my guests choose what they like - family style. I am sometimes not entirely ready when they arrive and so I put them to work filling glasses, finding more chairs or fixing the salad.
Most invited guests will ask "What can I bring?" Bring good conversation, I say. Bring a willingness to connect. Bring salad or dessert. I have learned that bringing something is important to them. I oberve with great interest what happens when you have a bunch of strangers eating intimately at a dinner table. This common meal allows people to share of themselves. Sometimes questions are asked so they will begin to open up. How did you join the church? What was your favorite part in that movie and why? How do you like to spend your time? And as they butter a dinner roll, they'll share their testimonies, their adventures, their misadventures. They move from that place of awkward stranger to common friend. They linger long after the platter is empty.
As I wash up the dishes later and clean the kitchen, a warm glow fills my soul. I feel full and whole and see my circle enlarging.