Trying to Be Neighborly

So, after being discouraged yesterday, I rested in the afternoon and headed out around five to do our grocery shopping for the week.  I had two pieces of chicken marinating in the fridge for dinner.  I pulled into the carport at a few minutes before seven, and who do I find walking up to our house, but our neighbor (the second one)!  And she was carrying these gorgeous flowers and a wine bag! 

It wasn't so much drop-in-company as Gretchen-dropped-the-ball-company, because when I spoke to her last Saturday, I had originally asked if she could come on Thursday at seven.  I thought that she was waiting to hear back from me about whether the first neighbor lady could come.  I should have called her back to check in, but just assumed we were off . . . and she assumed we were on. 

"Sweety, Alice is here!"  Thankfully, my husband is very good at taking things in stride and rose to the occasion, sipping wine and chatting with her while I quickly put together dinner and prayed a lot.  I was so thankful that I'd skipped my last stop and just come home, right on time!  I was so thankful that I had just bought a huge piece of salmon on a whim, and more red potatoes than I'd planned on, and stocked up on broccoli.  That's what we had.  And I was incredibly thankful when the salmon came out perfectly, even though it was my first time cooking it on the grill. 

Partly, the flowers and wine made me feel a bit intimidated.  While it might have been the humble thing to do to admit my fault in forgetting about her, I didn't want to ruin any rapport we were starting to build by admitting to so great a fault!  And even though Christians can get together and have macaroni and cheese and apple slices and be perfectly happy, I felt that she had a right to expect a really nice dinner, especially since she brought us really nice gifts. 

It went well, in that the food tasted good, she stayed a good while, and went back home before the conversation started dying.  But spiritually, I don't know.  I wasn't prepared and wasn't praying enough about it before-hand.  We talked a little about the churches we grew up in, but I still feel at a loss to say the right thing at the right moment to get her thinking.  She is powerless against our prayers . . .