Nothing expands my boarders quite like stepping out of my introvert comfort zone. The cookies were all baked, gathered on a cutesy plate and wrapped with a simple note. Each time I walked past where they sat in the kitchen, my heart raced a little more knowing all I had left to do was deliver them.
Not that I'm that nervous about talking to new people, but I'm that nervous about talking to new people. I catch myself wondering, Does it really matter? They don't need these cookies, and these cookies certainly won't make us instantly bond, so what's the point?
What is the point of meeting the neighbors?
The answer probably depends on the person. For me, the answer stems from my introversion. I'm quiet and shy and relatively reserved. Even the smiles I manage in passing are less noticeable than I realize. I've been told many times over that now-friends once thought I was stuck up. That's the nature of the quiet-reserved-introverted beast. I generally keep light-hearted about this, knowing that given the chance, people will see that I care and love and am friendly behind that cold exterior.
It's worked. For the most part. Until now. When I'm thinking about my neighbors, and realizing maybe they have the same impression. This doesn't matter as much for me personally as it does when I realize that everything I do--every moment as a Christian--is a reflection of Christ. Am I portraying Christ as unreachable, even stuck-up, to those around me?
I hope not!
And today's the day I changed that. Yes, with a simple plate of cookies. And a smiling face. And a simple note that implies we care and are friendly and want to act neighborly.
Cookies may not change the world, but I believe God expanded my territory and the reach of His light in this one act of sharing cookies with the neighbors.
