On yesterday, eight of my closest friends braved the storms, the wind and the rain to come out and fellowship with us. We’d all been through a tumultuous summer and hadn’t seen each other in a while. My husband and I decided to have an old folks day party…..a southern feast. So we pulled out the cast iron skillets, the magnalite pots, the grills, the pans, the bread warmer and the crocks and threw down bacon, chicken sausage, turkey bacon, fried chicken, catfish, grits, potatoes, eggs, sliced tomatoes, biscuits, croissants, preserved pears, strawberry jelly, blackburn syrup and molasses, fried pies and bluebell ice cream. We started with mimosas and we ended with mimosas, with a whole lot of other liquid favors in between. We spent the entire day together. Eating, drinking, watching Netflix and football, talking and laughing. Laughing….hard, long and loud! Before we knew it, the day party had turned into a dark party. Even my lil’ millennial who had worked all night and gotten up early to help her parents cook, stayed and hung out with us golden girls and talk politics with the kitchen table old men. At one point in the midst of all the pots, pans, loud talk and laughter, my spirit was quietened and my heart was filled with pure joy. This was what matters.
This is love.
This is joy.
This is what matters.
Priceless.
#HappySundaySaints!