When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?”
“Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.”
Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”
Each year, on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, our church hosts the Community Thanksgiving Meal. Anybody at all who is hungry is welcome. It's a really well-run project, and several thousand people get fed. Even though we've gone to FUMC for eight years, I've only had the chance to work at it one other time, with my dad two years ago. We seated people as they arrived. It was a really good morning together.
Blake was sitting with me in service last Sunday when they made an announcement about this year's meal, and he asked me if we could work at it. I said yes, and it should have been as simple as that, but it wasn't that simple in my head. As with so many things in the last three months, I found myself thinking about the last time I'd done a thing with Papa.
I'm glad that Blake asked, though. He's got a good heart. He wanted to do this. As it turned out, we had a really great time, busing tables and working alongside our friends. Blake was a little restless at first, since there were no tables to bus until the first few tables of folks had eaten and left, but as soon as we started, he went all out, zeroing in on any spots that needed to be cleaned and picking up all of the trash.
"There were a lot of people there today."
"Yes, there were."
"There's a lot of hungry people in Lubbock."
"Yes, there are."
A couple of minutes later...
"Who's going to feed them tomorrow?"