“I liked your cookies. And I don’t even like chocolate chip cookies.”

(Duly noted. I’ll take him peanut butter ones next time.)

Food and kids. Nothing opens up conversations like food and kids.

Back story:

My husband Kyle and I are planning to go on a mission trip to Hungary this summer. We (mostly me) have been experimenting with fundraising ideas. My latest grand idea is selling baked goodies. I tried a new recipe over the weekend for chocolate chip cookies. It made way more than I anticipated. Since I’m trying to lose weight and be somewhat healthy-ish, I decided to bag up some of the cookies and deliver them to our neighbors.

We try to remain in good standing with our neighbors for several reasons. We feel that most of them are not believers and we are always looking for open doors to share the gospel with them. Also, my husband occasionally needs to borrow tools from them so we try to keep them happy. We also have two boys who throw rocks, dig holes and ride their various bikes, trikes and scooters in everyone’s driveways. It’s usually a good idea in these cases to be on good and very friendly terms with your neighbors if at all possible.

It’s not unusual for me to send food and goodies over to my neighbors houses. But this time… I sent Kyle and our oldest son to deliver the treats with a very specific message:

“Lindsey told us to bring you these and she needs to know if you like them because she’s going to sell them to raise money for our mission trip.”

I’m kind of a “just lay it out there” type of person. No need to beat around the bush or sugar coat anything. I needed their opinion because I was about to put my products out there for sale and I needed to make sure they were legit. If you mess up chocolate chip cookies, it’s a bad, bad day to be an American.

So, back to my neighbor. My kids and I were outside early this morning because my oldest was super excited about riding his new bike. I had thrown some old clothes on really quick, pulled my unwashed hair up, didn’t apply any make-up, swallowed down the last of my coffee and plopped myself down on the front porch to watch him ride. What I’m trying to say is that I did not want to be seen by anyone. Definitely not have a conversation with a neighbor.

But as the Lord would have it, the incredibly sweet couple next door arrived home from breakfast and saw us outside. They came right on over and the first words out of his mouth was the assessment of my cookies that I had asked for. Quick and to the point. I appreciated that.

What I did not anticipate was spending the next twenty minutes standing in my front yard talking with him and his wife. The Lord used those cookies to open up a door for me to get to talk with my neighbors about the mission trip we were going on, why I would leave my kids behind for ten days (I could ugly cry every time I think about that, by the way), what we were going to do there and every other detail they could think to ask about. They were amazed that we were going to be allowed into public schools and teach kids about the Bible. In the eight and a half years we’ve lived beside them, I’ve never had such a meaningful, gospel-centered conversation with them.

It was incredible. In that moment, I did not care how l looked, who’s driveway my kids were in or that the little one had covered himself in mud. I was so thankful for that opportunity. Sometimes I try so hard to force things instead of letting God be God and letting him work in people’s hearts in His time and in His way.

I think I received the feedback I needed on those cookies. And I think I’m going to keep making them forever and ever.