
The Waiting, the Wondering, and the Welcome
I kept glancing at the clock for what felt like the tenth time. I had prepared the space, sent out the invitations, and waited with that anxious little voice whispering, What if no one comes? But I reminded myself of this truth:
‘Great acts are made up of small deeds.’ — Lao Tzu
Even small efforts, offered in love, matter more than we realize.
I’d been carrying a lot already: the lingering fatigue of finishing my manuscript, the mental buzz from a photography course, wondering if anyone would show up for small group. The invitations were sent, the space was prepared, but I felt that old familiar uncertainty tug at me.
But then — they came. Not all, but enough.
We shared a meal, waited on a late leader delayed by an unexpected fender bender with a Porsche, and dove into conversation about living from the heart Jesus gave us. We talked about maturity, faith, and the awkward beauty of growth. And somewhere between laughter, dating confessions over dishes, and late-night conversations, it hit me:
This is why we keep gathering.
This is why we open our doors when we’re unsure.
This is why we show up.
As Hebrews 10:24-25 reminds us, “Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together…but encouraging one another.”
Small Moments, Big Lessons
The night became a living example of something C.S. Lewis once wrote:
“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one.’”
Even when turnout feels uncertain or conversations take unexpected turns, what matters most is presence.
‘Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does.’ — William James
And on nights like this, that difference feels undeniabl
And as Mother Teresa beautifully put it, “We can do no great things, only small things with great love.” That’s what tonight was: small acts, great love.
Soul Insights
1. Faithfulness is not about perfection.
It’s tempting to believe we need polished words, flawless spaces, or impressive turnouts to call something meaningful. But faithfulness is about showing up with what we have — even when it feels messy or incomplete. God delights in our imperfect offerings far more than we know.
2. Community is a practice, not a guarantee.
There’s no guarantee who will come, how the night will unfold, or whether you’ll leave feeling full or flat. But each time we gather, we’re building a rhythm of belonging and trust that shapes both us and those around us. Community becomes real through repetition, not perfection.
3. God’s presence doesn’t require a crowd.
We live in a world that celebrates numbers — bigger events, more followers, larger impact. But God meets us in the small, the quiet, the intimate. His presence transforms even two or three into sacred space, reminding us that spiritual depth isn’t measured by headcount.
4. Depth happens when you least expect it.
Some of the richest conversations arrive after the formal gathering has ended — over dishes, in quiet corners, or through unexpected laughter. When we let go of agendas and stay a little longer, we create room for honesty and connection to flourish. These moments often leave the deepest imprint on the heart.
5. Your “yes” matters more than you know.
Saying yes — to gathering, to hosting, to listening — ripples outward in ways we often can’t see. It builds a foundation of trust and a sense of home, both for others and for ourselves. Over time, that quiet yes becomes part of a much larger story of love.
Final Thoughts: The Ripple Effect of Presence
As I reflect on tonight, I’m reminded of Isaiah 55:11:
“So is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.”
Presence matters. Even when you’re unsure. Even when it’s imperfect. Even when it feels small.
The sacred art of showing up creates room for God to move, for hearts to open, for laughter to rise, for healing to quietly begin. And even when we can’t see the outcome, the ripple effect is real.
A Gentle Invitation
When was the last time you showed up for someone — or when did someone’s presence change your day?
I’d love to hear your stories in the comments. Let’s remind each other that no act of love is ever wasted.
A Blessing for You
May you keep showing up — with a messy house, a tired heart, or an unsure spirit.
May you trust that your presence matters more than your perfection.
And may you know that in every small gathering, love finds its way.
© 2025 Amelie Chambord

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