It started with an awkward encounter and a cup of coffee.
Nancy Dyson, a member of St. John’s Episcopal Church in St. Cloud, Minnesota, found herself tiptoeing around Lake George in high heels one Sunday morning, coffee in hand, looking for homeless people she’d heard were living there.
“It was extremely awkward and weird because I didn’t know what I was doing,” Nancy recalls. “I eventually found some people and just said, ‘Would you like a coffee?’ They were so gracious and said yes.”
That simple act of showing up—coffee cup extended—would eventually transform not only Nancy’s understanding of ministry but her entire congregation’s approach to community engagement. What began as a hesitant outreach attempt has blossomed into “Laundry Love,” a thriving ministry that serves 80-100 people twice a month at a local laundromat, and more recently, “Bread and Blessings,” a gathering at the public library where neighbors share meals and faith conversations.
On a recent episode of the Pivot Podcast, Nancy shared her story with hosts Dwight Zscheile and Terri Elton, offering insights for congregations seeking to connect more authentically with their neighbors.
Listen First, Plan Later
For many churches, community outreach follows a familiar pattern: identify a need, develop a program, recruit volunteers, and implement the strategy. Nancy’s experience suggests an alternative approach that begins with presence rather than planning.
“Get out of the walls of your church with no agenda,” Nancy advises. “Go someplace—go to a park, anywhere, go to the grocery store. Just walk around and observe who’s there, who’s showing up.”
After her initial coffee offering, Nancy returned week after week, building relationships with the people living near Lake George. Soon, coffee turned into breakfast, with Nancy and her daughter serving eggs and bacon from the back of their van. It was during these informal gatherings that Nancy learned something surprising: some of her new friends were washing their clothes in the park fountains.
“I had no idea that laundry was an issue for folks,” Nancy shares. “I just asked the question, ‘Is that a really big deal for a lot of people?’ And they said, ‘Yeah, it really is.'”
Rather than rushing back to church to develop a laundry program, Nancy continued the conversation. She mentioned she’d heard about “Laundry Love” in another community and asked if they thought something similar would work in St. Cloud. When they expressed interest, they launched the initiative together.
“That’s different than me coming up with an idea for them,” Nancy emphasizes. “We did it together.”
Embrace the Messy Middle
When Nancy first shared her experience at church, she encountered a familiar institutional impulse: “Right away there was this need to make it a program,” she explains. “Now this is a program of the church, and we’re going to make a file folder for it and put it on the calendar and start a little fund for it.”
Nancy pushed back, advocating for something “beautifully messy” that wouldn’t fit neatly into existing church structures. This messiness extended to the roles people played. When someone suggested volunteers wear name tags or t-shirts to distinguish them from those receiving services, Nancy pointed out the artificial nature of such distinctions.
“That guy over there? He’s doing his laundry, but he also brought this hot dish today to share. This woman here is doing her laundry, but she just shepherded three other new people through this whole process of doing their laundry. So who gets the t-shirt?”
This blurring of lines between “server” and “served” has become a hallmark of Laundry Love, creating a genuine community rather than a transactional charitable service. The ministry now operates twice monthly, with the church contributing about $250 toward the approximately $400 cost per session. The remaining support comes from a growing network of community partners.
Make Space for the Spiritual
Perhaps the most challenging aspect for many church-based outreach efforts is navigating when and how to introduce spiritual components. Nancy’s approach was decidedly patient.
“We were afraid to share that with others lest we be pushy,” Nancy admits. “A lot of people knew that we were from churches, but we just didn’t go there until I met Blair Pogue.”
With Blair’s encouragement, Nancy introduced a prayer box at Laundry Love—”about ten years in, don’t rush it”—where people could write down prayer requests and optionally include their names and phone numbers.
“I called after Laundry Love and said, ‘So how did this prayer box thing go?’ And the first thing out of her mouth was, ‘Well, we need a bigger box, that’s for sure.’ I said, ‘Well, did anybody write their name?’ And she said, ‘Everybody wrote their name, and we have a lot of phone calls to make.'”
Contrary to Nancy’s assumptions, when they called people, they didn’t find requests for material assistance. “They wanted us to pray for that, but they didn’t want us to do that,” she explains. “They wanted to talk. They wanted someone to listen.”
This success with the prayer box has led to more spiritual experimentation. At a church rummage sale, Nancy suggested opening the sanctuary doors and inviting shoppers to light a candle. More recently, she’s launched “Bread and Blessings,” a gathering at the public library where people share a meal, hear a Jesus story, discuss “wondering questions,” and sing a song.
“We’ve told people about it, and I said, ‘We’re going to talk about Jesus later. You can stay for that part, or you can just come eat with us.’
The Transformation Goes Both Ways
While Laundry Love and its offshoots have certainly impacted the St. Cloud community, Nancy is quick to point out that the most profound transformation has occurred within the church members who participated.
“The most transformed people are the people that have stepped forward to say, ‘I want to engage with this population of people,'” she observes. “They’re the ones who are really transformed.”
For Nancy personally, the experience has shifted her understanding of vulnerability and authenticity. She recalls how she initially showed up in high heels, “pretending like I had it all together when I didn’t.” The people she met—with their lives literally on their backs—taught her “what it meant to be loved in spite of the not-so-great things about you.”
This mutual transformation extends to her view of church leadership as well. While she initially focused on listening to the needs of people outside the church, she’s come to appreciate that “people inside the church also have needs and talents and gifts and callings.”
“Walking this path with others outside of the church has made me understand that people inside the church are not that much different,” she reflects. “I’m not that much different than the people outside the church.”
Taking the Next Step
For congregations inspired by Nancy’s story but unsure how to begin, she offers simple advice: “Just go and do it. Don’t have any expectations other than to be surprised when the Holy Spirit does something, because it will happen.”
She also emphasizes the freedom that comes from releasing success metrics. “If nobody shows up, that’s okay. We’ll have a conversation about Jesus together.”
This willingness to follow the Holy Spirit’s lead, to experiment without fear of failure, and to prioritize relationships over results represents a significant pivot from how many churches approach ministry. It’s a shift from fixing problems to listening deeply, from membership maintenance to discipleship formation, from standardized programs to contextual engagement, and from clergy-led initiatives to empowered lay leadership.
As Nancy’s story demonstrates, these pivots don’t require elaborate strategic plans or significant financial resources. They simply start with showing up—even if it’s in high heels with a cup of coffee and a healthy dose of awkwardness.
