Love Your Neighbor (Literally)

For months, I felt the Lord gently pressing something onto my heart: start a neighborhood supper club.

Not a Bible study. Not a formal ministry. Just a table. A meal. An invitation. He even gave me the name almost immediately: The Palm Aire Ladies Supper Club.

And yet, even though I’ve been involved in ministry for years, I hesitated. There was something about doing ministry in my own neighborhood that felt more vulnerable. Our ministry or church feels different somehow. We meet or gather monthly, or we serve together. 

At church, we gather once a week, and then everyone goes home.  But neighbors? Neighbors see your real life. They see you carrying in groceries. They hear your dogs bark. You wave while taking out the trash. You watch their children grow up and they are watching yours.

There’s a closeness to neighboring that can feel both beautiful and exposing. Ironically, my neighborhood is actually very friendly. But I still found myself wondering: When would I do it? Would anyone come? Would it become too much of a commitment?

Last summer, during our Next Level Moms summer book club with some wonderful women, we were reading “Nothing to Prove” by Jennie Allen. One discussion question stopped me in my tracks: “What is one small or large risk you could take for the glory of God or the good of people?” Immediately, I knew my answer.

When I shared the idea of starting a neighborhood supper club, the women around the table lit up. I still remember the warmth in the room as they smiled and encouraged me. “Faye, do it! Do it! Do it!” Honestly, their response felt like confirmation from the Lord Himself.

So last October, I finally took the plunge. I printed invitations, tucked them into envelopes, and slipped them into my neighbors’ mailboxes. The very first response came from a sweet neighbor across the street. She immediately wrote back: “I’m in. This is so needed. Thank you for doing this. I’ll help however I can.” Her encouragement carried me forward.

For our first gathering, I served caramelized onion chicken, mashed potatoes, and salad. Hosting itself wasn’t intimidating for me — hospitality has always felt woven into my DNA. But what surprised me most wasn’t whether people would come. It was how quickly connection formed once they did. There was an almost instant sense of comfort around the table, like we had all been friends much longer than we actually had. It felt easy. Natural. Sweet.

And we really haven’t looked back since.

Now we gather once a month, each evening carrying its own theme. In December, we hosted a dinner and cookie swap. For the women who couldn’t attend, we delivered cookie tins the next day so they could still feel included. We’ve done Galentine’s dinners, themed evenings, games, and recently, a flower bouquet bar where we shared dinner first and then spent the evening laughing and creating arrangements together.

One of my favorite parts has been watching other women organically begin stepping forward. I never once asked anyone to host. I simply created space and let the Lord move in people’s hearts. And He did.

One month, the neighbor who had first encouraged me was supposed to host Galentine’s night at her home, complete with homemade pizzas from her outdoor kitchen. But at the last minute, her daughter got sick. She texted asking if we should postpone. Instead, we simply pivoted. We moved everything to my house, she ordered pizzas instead, brought decorations and plates, and the evening turned out just as lovely as originally planned.

That night reminded me of something important: community doesn’t require perfection. It simply requires willingness.

Over these months, we’ve shared meaningful conversations and vulnerable moments around the table. And it has genuinely changed the way I walk through my neighborhood. Now when I pass these homes, I don’t just see houses — I see women I know. Women whose stories I’ve heard, whose burdens I’ve prayed over, whose laughter I’ve shared. There’s something incredibly beautiful about realizing community was sitting this close all along.

I think modern life quietly pushes people toward isolation. We worry about differences, politics, schedules, awkwardness, busyness. We assume people already have enough friends. But underneath it all, I think many people are deeply longing for connection. And maybe “love your neighbor as yourself” (Luke 10:27) is more literal than we sometimes realize.

There’s something powerful about building community with the people God has physically placed around you.

Living in South Florida, hurricanes always seem to bring neighbors together temporarily. Everyone jokes that storms are how you really get to know your neighbors. But this has felt deeper than storm preparation or emergency connection. This has been about building real, ongoing community with the people right outside our front doors.

And honestly, this whole experience has taught me that obedience often begins with one very small step.

A printed invitation.

A text message.

An open table.

A simple “come over.”

But truly, the small step was mine. Everything else has been the Lord’s.

He prepared the people.

He created the warmth.

He formed the connections.

He sustained the gatherings. 

I’ve simply had the joy of watching Him work.

Acts 2:46 says: “They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts.” There’s a reason so much of Jesus’ ministry happened around tables. Meals slow us down. They open conversation. They create belonging. Hospitality softens hearts in ways we often underestimate.

And if you’ve been feeling nudged to gather people — whether it’s neighbors, coworkers, young moms, widows, or friends — this may be your encouragement to simply begin. You do not need a perfect home. You do not need elaborate decorations. You do not need a five-course meal. 

You just need willingness…because sometimes one small act of obedience becomes the doorway God uses to create something far more beautiful than you ever imagined.

_{Faye Morgan is the founder and president of Next Level Moms and has served in women’s ministry for more than 25 years. Passionate about encouraging women to know God and experience His goodness, she has led Bible studies, coordinated events, and partnered with churches and ministry organizations to equip women in their faith. Faye lives in South Florida with her husband, Scott, and is the proud mom of two children—a son attending Florida State University and a daughter who is a high school senior. She enjoys gathering around the table with family and friends, watching movies, and cheering on tennis and football.}