Murph’s Musings

A Small Town Feast

Meaningful connections and finding belonging in a new community

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Some nights slip away quickly, pleasant but unremarkable, dissolving into the haze of everyday life. And then there are nights that root themselves in your bones, right there in the marrow. The nights that remind you why it’s good to be human, and even better to belong.

Last night was one of those nights.

For once, J and I weren’t the first to arrive, which felt like an act of divine intervention. We managed to time it perfectly ~ fashionably late, but not enough to be inconsiderate. Still, as soon as we stepped through the door, I felt a pang of regret that we hadn’t come earlier. The house already pulsed with warmth, laughter, and the kind of effortless camaraderie that makes you wish time could stretch just a little longer.

Some nights deserve extra time.

The gathering was a gloriously mismatched collection of souls, ten adults plus a toddler and LilD, the seven-year-old whose comedic timing is sharper than most adults I know. She’s one of those kids who shifts the gravitational pull of a room without trying. Every time I see her, she manages to have a meltdown so absurdly specific that it borders on high art. Last time, it was over the heartbreak of…