Chicken Pot Pie, and The Beauty of Tribes

I can remember the smells and happiness. Sunday gatherings at Ma Dick’s, short for Dickerson, when I was a young boy and my mom hauled me and my brothers down to Mississippi every summer.

Her home was hot, an old simple dwelling, and the kitchen probably got to 120 degrees on Sunday afternoons. It was filled with delicacies, pot pies with dumplings, sweet tea, okra, biscuits, pies, green beans, watermelon and much more that I’m missing.

Every room was filled to the point that men were standing in the doorways and outside scrambled a rat pack of kids of all ages running and hollering.

It is where the seed was planted for big families, and I’m sure it contributed to my desire to have a huge one.

People ask me a lot, especially today when families are small and many people don’t even want one, why, why so many kids?

We are a tribe, and I grew up in a tribe. Tribes can be messy, and if you are not careful, a tribe can be suffocating. But at its best, a tribe has your back, you feel safe, and with the foundation of this safety you believe you can do anything.

Think of the Israelites wandering the desert or early Christians meeting in homes and catacombs. There is strength in numbers, and there are no numbers closer than the blood of a close family.

What if you weren’t raised in a big family, or are single and your family is spread out, etc. Well then create a tribe. I would start small, but keep your friends close and cultivate relationships. Get out of your comfort zone and go to Bible studies, clubs, or heck, move to a small town!