TASTE.

The journey on how we came to minister at an inner city church could take a couple of hours to explain. It certainly wasn't on our horizon. Neither one of us had experience at this type of church. Looking at us from an educated perspective, we are unqualified. Knowing us from a personal perspective, it is surprising. This was not our dream. This was not our plan. This was not where we had aspired/hoped/prayed to be.

And yet, God has given us great passion for this place.
Intense passion.
Overwhelming at times.

We came with a handful of good folk dedicated to do Kingdom work. We were hopeful and naive and had no idea what would happen on the West Side of Charleston. We also had no idea on how to reach our community.

Many of us were familiar with the neighborhood, only through local TV coverage of the crime problems. We knew that there were large communities of public housing there. Rated: Poverty Level in the census reports. How could we declare the power & freedom of Jesus to people so entangled by poverty and generational dependence upon government programs?

We quickly realized that people came if there was food involved.
Hot dog cookouts attracted a crowd. (Large crowds in fact.)

Our resources were (still are) very limited. Our core group small. How could we utilize what/who we had with the maximum opportunity? Somehow we made the connection that we were there every sunday MORNING.
And what do people eat in the morning? BREAKFAST.

Let's serve breakfast!
When we hung out our little "Free Breakfast, Every Sunday @ 11:30" sign, we had no idea what kind of adventure we were embarking. We did not know that eventually this thing would grow & that sometimes we'd run out of eggs. We did not expect to serve persons whose faces sometimes appear on the Charleston's Most Wanted list. We didn't plan for the waiting line to sweep through the hallway & outside the building.

We simply opened the door, baked some biscuits & said Come on in!
Through a modern-day-miracle, God continues to multiply our loaves & fishes each week.
No one leaves hungry, instead they are filled up on hot coffee & warm, tastey food.

I like to think that everyone who comes would agree that on Sunday mornings at 814 Florida Street, the gospel tastes a little bit like scrambed eggs & bacon.
(Or sausage, whatever is on sale or donated that week!)

"Taste & see that the Lord is good!" Psalm 34:7