It’s perfect porch weather this morning, and I am craving a good gathering of my people. I’ve been missing the way we congregate- laughing and eating and talking over each other. In the South, our porches go by other names- decks, patios, verandas, balconies, or stoops. They are extensions of our homes providing a little bit of shade so people can gather to celebrate, eat, sleep, read, or pray. Porches like people come in all shapes, designs, and ages. The perfect porch is only surpassed by perfect porch weather. Around here, that’s early fall – you know, when the sun stills follows summer’s rules but a sweet morning breeze doesn’t. As a kid, my weekends were spent listening to grown-ups talk on these porches. They sat in a makeshift circle with fans buzzing all around. We always seemed to be eating something good like watermelon or homemade pineapple cherry sherbet. I’d run past these adults, weaving in and out of their chairs chasing cousins. I have this great memory of my grandmother snagging me around the waist and bringing me in for a big hug, whispering to slow down and be careful. In one simple wink, she communicated how she loved me so, but she meant what she said, and I’d better be careful. My grandmother also taught me that I should have my porch ready all the time just in case a friend comes over. In the South, someone always does. Miss Mary has the prettiest porch I’ve ever seen with her beautiful flower beds leading our eyes to the lake view. I love her expansive porch, beautiful yard, and unique version of gracious hospitality that always begins with Y’all come on in. Let’s go sit on the porch. On these porches of my life, there have been birthday parties, Sunday lunches, homecoming and prom dinners, bridesmaids’ luncheons, and one epic beauty pageant. The incredibly fun Miss Shezalthat spectacle included a talent show portion. The details of that night live on in the remember whens of our more recent gatherings. The only evidence of our fun is an elusive group picture. On our family Duck Pond porch, we celebrate traditions while looking out over moss covered Cyprus trees that have witnessed more than one big family announcement or a sweet stolen kiss. In Apalachicola, we live on the screened porch, soaking up the salty air. Here we rest and plan future trips before the current one ends. Porches in Costa Rica teach me the inspiring power of Christian fellowship as my friends and I gather with purpose to eat and celebrate our faith. Haiti porches teach me that warm Caribbean sun will sustain my passion for missions and languages. A simple concrete roof top can hold powerful women who know what is most important in life. I miss that porch. A good porch party in Americus means eating well, laughing much, and listening to good music. We don’t try to solving all the world's problems, but we do plan, fellowship, and support one another. David had his caves. Abraham had his fields. Moses went up his mountains. Mary Magdalene sat by a well. God met them there. I love my porches. God meets me on a porch wherever I am. I may not be rocking in a chair or swaying gently from a swing. I am usually sitting with feet propped up. A journal in my hands is sometimes just as meaningful to me as knees bent in prayer. I think one reason God met them at these places is because this is where they were still enough to clearly hear Him. God’s amazing grace finds me where and when I need it. I need those moments when I allow God to show me the fullness of His love. When I hear Him call my name. God finds me, sustains me, reminds me of joy, and prepares me for what is to come. Where He wants me to go. What He might have me do. Even if I want to stay longer on the porch, with all my good intentions and pretty scenery, I must get up and move. I’m grateful for powerful blessings and powerful porch lessons. This morning, I am loving our perfect porch weather. It’s fall, y’all!
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JoAnna Arnold
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