My small group has been going through Ecclesiastes. We were due to finish this week, and in an effort to implement what we've learned from the Lord's word, we decided we ought to eat, drink, and be merry, potluck style.
From seven until just after nine, the conversation flowed like wine, the wine flowed like honey, and the food was as rich as it was bountiful. There was colorful, diverse, and continuous conversation, a mosaic bound by a love only found in community.
It was as if the whole night wore a hazy glow, a moment when the world and its trials, its distractions, its limits, wasn't invited. It was just us and an age-old tradition of gathering over good food and being women together. Sharing that piece of our spirit that is universal, a reflection of a beautiful God. These are the moments, the memories, that time cannot fade.
I am so thankful for these times. They make me wonder if they would be as special if they weren't so rare. But I think they would. I think that sense of oneness is what the church, what humanity, was meant to feel. Oneness with each other, oneness with our Maker.
Thank you, God, for my Smallies, and for the moments that exist in dimension untouched by time.