Grace Table is a feast for your eyes and your soul. I first connected online with Kris, the founder of this visually delicious site, through our mutual friend, Kristen (a contributing writer and creator of the worldwide Turquoise Table movement). When Kris and I figured out we lived about an hour apart, we dropped this virtual silliness and met for a real cup of coffee. And there may have been chocolate croissants involved, I’ll never tell. Wouldn’t you love to sit at the table with her?

We are people who love God, who love communion and who love a good dinner table conversation. We are storytellers who love food. We’re chefs, short-order cooks, soup stirrers, and birthday cake makers. We are kitchen people, and grill masters. We make gourmet breakfasts and serve cereal for dinner. We are passionate about faith and food. We’re hungry for a table where grace is said and passed, like a warm basket full of rolls. Come break bread with us–we’ve saved you a seat.

I’ve been invited to be a guest at Grace Table. Please enjoy this guest post, and don’t miss the big giveaway at the end!

God {Only} Knows

Eight years ago, I faced down my fears, got over my flimsy excuses, and decided to get to know my neighbors. I knocked on door after door after door, introducing myself up and down Rosewood and Longwood and Redwood Drives. (Yes, all of our streets are called something-wood and yes, it’s impossible to have a pizza delivered.) I invited my neighbors to an Open House—nothing fancy, just trying to make friends. I didn’t know what would happen the first time I timidly walked up to a neighbor’s door.

God {only} knew.

I didn’t know women who were once strangers would become friends in my living room when I invited them back for a neighborhood Bible study. I didn’t know Juanita on Redwood would become one of my closest friends, or that we would host a baby shower for Lauren on Longwood, or Linda on Red Oak is one of the funniest people I’ve ever met. (Yes, we have Redwood and Red Oak; we also have Ridgewood and Ridge Road. What were they thinking?) I did know I was petrified—but after months of fighting and fretting, I was finally taking the first steps of obedience into a clear calling God had given me: Go love your neighbor, Amy, the ones right next door. I just didn’t know what that would look like.