The tea kettle bubbled away on the stove as I stood choosing my tea bag in the church kitchen, alongside two of my fellow mama friends. Words about our week and school and Christmas and just life floated about the little room where we always start Ladies Bible Study.
Out of the blue, Wendy dug through her bags and handed Megan a mason jar of sourdough starter. Megan excitedly unscrewed the lid and took a sniff of all that yeasty goodness. I wanted to take a good whiff too, but I restrained that juvenile urge. Nobody wants my nose in their starter.
Wendy explained, "I'm so sorry that took so long. This is my true confession." She went on to say that she realized that Megan has a little boy who has a peanut allergy. In Wendy's house, the measuring cups are used to scoop peanut butter as well. So, instead of just dipping out a sourdough starter, she freshly sterilized the measuring cups and started fresh with the starter. The process took longer but was safer for Megan's family. Megan expressed her gratitude and the conversation swiftly moved to other topics, as only mom conversations can.
I have thought often of this conversation over the past several days. Wendy's a busy mom and yet, I, as just an onlooker making my tea, was so touched at the care Wendy showed for Megan's little man.
That she took that time.
That she paid attention to that little niggling thought that made her think it was important.
That she felt compassion for Megan's boy and acted practically as a result.
I've been tearing up each time I mull over that conversation. It was just such a picture of the Body of Christ loving each other in real and tangible ways and it's challenging me. It made me want to love others in the way that Wendy did. It's one small way that I feel urged onward to loving others more truly.
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