“Faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead,” my husband was preaching from James.

I happened to turn and glance over my shoulder at the kitchen where two ladies were making a potluck meal.

A third lady stood toward the back of the entryway waving frantically.

I wondered if she might be gesturing to her children, but when I blinked a second time, she raised both hands, doubling her insistence. I could tell she had an urgent need.

I stood and walked to the back. Before I got...