Finding Joy in the Long Days: Desert Cross Lutheran's Holiday Breakfast Playdates
How Our Congregation Transforms Holiday Mornings into Ministry Moments
When Schedules Disappear, Community Appears
by Deacon Laura Book
As parents, we know the rhythm well: the blessing of backpack ceremonies as school begins, the excitement of Rally Day picnics, and the celebration of Sunday school milestones at year's end. These liturgical and secular transitions mark our children's growth and our community's shared journey of faith. But what happens on those in-between days—the long holiday weekends when familiar schedules disappear?
Four years ago, Desert Cross Lutheran Church discovered that some of our most meaningful community building happens not during planned church programming, but during those unstructured holiday mornings when families need each other most.
The Birth of an Idea
Like many parents of small children, I craved routine during those years when the children were tiny and the days felt endless. Memorial Day and Labor Day weekends presented a particular challenge—too much unscheduled time for families with little ones who still needed their 1pm naps for successful, happy evenings. Camping trips and elaborate outings weren't realistic options, yet staying home felt isolating.
That's when I realized other parents in our congregation faced the same dilemma. Small children's internal clocks don't recognize holidays—they're still up bright and early, ready for the day. Why not gather together during those morning hours when we're all looking for something meaningful to do?
Four Years of Growth and Joy
What began as a simple solution for families with young children has blossomed into one of our most beloved congregational traditions. Our bi-annual breakfast playdates at the neighborhood park now welcome anyone in the Desert Cross Church family, from infants to grandparents and everyone in between.
Our chosen park offers everything we need for Arizona's warm holiday mornings: a picnic shelter, shaded playgrounds surrounded by sensory sand, and established trees providing crucial shade when temperatures climb close to 100 degrees. The setting creates natural opportunities for both active play and quiet conversation.
Simple Elements, Lasting Impact
The beauty of our breakfast playdates lies in their simplicity. Families arrive at 9am with treats to share and hearts ready for fellowship. I always bring sensory bins filled with ice cubes, cups, and bath toys—a hit with children and adults alike for staying cool. Other families contribute bubble machines, chalk, soccer balls, and sand toys. The gathering officially ends at 11am, but most years people linger, reluctant to break the spell of unhurried community.
Friends are always welcome, making these mornings natural outreach opportunities. We've welcomed many unchurched families who might not otherwise experience our congregation's warmth and hospitality. In the relaxed park setting, conversations flow naturally between parents pushing swings and grandparents sharing stories under the shade trees.
The Gift of Intergenerational Connection
Perhaps the most beautiful development has been opening our invitation to the entire congregation. Empty nesters and single, grandparent-aged members have enriched our gatherings immeasurably. Children's laughter becomes a gift they share with the whole community, while the wisdom and perspective of older generations create meaningful intergenerational dialogue.
These connections often prove difficult to foster during typical Sunday mornings, when families hurry between worship, Sunday school, and the demands of nap schedules. The park playdate removes those time pressures, allowing relationships to develop organically over shared breakfast treats and playground supervision.
A Different Kind of Ministry
Our breakfast playdates represent ministry in its most natural form—neighbors caring for neighbors, community forming around shared needs, and faith lived out through simple acts of gathering and sharing. We're not teaching formal lessons or following prescribed curricula; we're simply creating space for the Holy Spirit to work through relationship and presence.
The success of these gatherings reminds us that ministry happens not just in sanctuaries and classrooms, but wherever God's people gather to support one another. Sometimes the most profound acts of pastoral care involve showing up with coffee and donuts on a holiday morning when parents are feeling overwhelmed and isolated.
An Invitation to Consider
I encourage congregations everywhere to examine both liturgical and secular calendars with fresh eyes. Where might families in your community need support? How can your congregation transform potentially difficult times—long holiday weekends, school breaks, or seasonal transitions—into opportunities for ministry and connection?
Holiday mornings offer unique ministry possibilities because they catch families in unguarded moments, away from the structured environments where we typically encounter one another. In the park, with children playing and adults relaxing, authentic relationships have room to grow.
Looking Ahead
As we prepare for upcoming Memorial Day and Labor Day weekends, anticipation builds within our Desert Cross family. Children ask when they'll see their playground friends again, while parents mark their calendars for these precious mornings of unstructured community time.
These simple breakfast playdates have taught us that ministry often looks like showing up with ice cubes and bubble machines, creating space for laughter and conversation, and trusting that God works through the ordinary moments when church pew neighbors become family.
Sometimes the most profound celebrations happen not with elaborate planning, but with simple presence—meeting families exactly where they are, when they need community most.
For questions about implementing similar programming in your congregation, contact lbook@gcsynod.org.
