A Tribe

Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

—Ephesians 5:1–2

The Cooking Club began when we moved back to Chicago. There are six of us. We meet once a month, and whoever’s hosting picks the theme and cooks the main course, and the rest of us fill in around that—appetizers, sides, desserts.

Those five faces around the table keep me sane, keep me safe, protect me from the pressures of daily life. It isn’t because we do all the same things, live all the same ways, believe all the same things. We are single and married, liberal and conservative, runners and adamant nonathletes, mothers and not.

On the hardest days, when something scares us, we send a quick group e-mail, even as our hands are shaking, while the pain is slicing. We fill everyone in, ask for prayer, let everyone know how they can help and at the end of the e-mail, someone always says, Thanks for being my people.

This isn’t about recipes. This is about a family, a tribe, a little band of people who walk through it all together, up close and in the mess.