By Reba Phelps

The smell of baked homemade deliciousness lingered in the air as I stood in the doorway of my home after the unexpected knock at the door. It is so rare to even hear an actual knock on the door rather than the alarming noise billowing from my phone that goes off with an electronic doorbell security system. This particular morning was a little more active than usual due to the constant weather alarms, so I was a little immune to the notices from my trusted system.

When I finally focused long enough to realize someone was actually at the door, the knock had grown a little more inpatient. I affectionately called the loud, heavy knock a “Police knock”. Much to my pleasant surprise, and way better than a weather alarm or a pesky salesman, there stood my precious little neighbor from across the street. She was holding what smelled like and looked like homemade biscuits. There was steam rippling from the plate that also neatly held a tinfoil encased serving of…what is my nose picking?…maple syrup?

While my nose was doing a mini dance of delight, my neighbor Abby sweetly said, “We finally got around to making biscuits, they are fresh out of the oven, here is some syrup too. We would have had them here earlier but the weather was so bad and we were gone for a little while too.”

Her excitement was building as she handed me a handwritten note and opened the tinfoil to show off the biscuits all the while telling me about her recent travels. I listened intently as she talked about how much fun she had with her family, how the biscuits were made and what they planned on doing for the rest of the day since the storm passed. My excitement was building too, I was here for all of the sweet, youthful stories and of course, I was here for the big, buttery, blessed biscuits. Syrup too.

Little did my precious neighbor know, I have been silently panicking about my youngest daughter graduating high school and leaving for college. The thought of my nest being closer to the empty stage has had my heart somewhat downtrodden the last few weeks. Senior year rolled in like a freight train and it is rolling out just as quickly. So many of my years have been centered around being the best mother that I can be and in just a few short months I will have to adapt to a new, child-free environment in my home. It almost takes my breath away if I dwell on it for too long.

But, as I stood there taking in the fragrance of the maple syrup I also noticed the sweet aroma of God showing me that I am still surrounded by amazing children in my neighborhood. And, for whatever reason they do seem to like me (possibly more than my own daughters do). He also reminded me that I am surround by the sweetest and most thoughtful neighbors that anyone could ever ask for. The Lord may be on to something…I can hang out on the porch or in the yard with these kiddos and they actually go back home. Almost like adopted grandchildren!

While my neighbor thought she was just sending me big, buttery, blessed biscuits with a side of maple syrup, she was actually sending me a reminder of God’s love and how we should love our neighbors as ourselves.

“For the whole law is fulfilled in one word; you shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
Galatians 5:14

Reba Phelps jreba.phelps@gmail.com