You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Psalm 23:5
Why do our furniture purchases occur when we’re on vacation?
My husband had a valid point. It did seem we’d done our share of hauling tables in our SUV. Our current kitchen table had caught our eye while on our first Christmas vacation. We loaded it in the back of our car, drove for two days, and waited for my parents to bring the chairs a few months later.
That table took a beating. It saw finger food, finger paint, and still had remnants from the unfortunate chocolate milk incident of toddler years.
Fast forward fifteen years to Spring Break. Browsing through a furniture store we saw the table. This was no cast-off from a holiday pop-up store. It was a beauty. And certainly not able to ride home in our car. It would have to be carefully padded and delivered to my side door.
When it arrived weeks later, I guided the delivery team inside.
Careful please. No nicks or dents.
A few days later, when our college Bible study group arrived, I directed them to eat at the bar. Why get the table dirty? For dinner, I guided my children to the back patio.
But after I scratched that table while cleaning it, (Don’t ask.) I was reminded that tables are for meals and people and conversation. They’re for sitting down and looking in the eyes of college students that tell quirky stories and have honest questions. They’re for teenagers, games, and projects. I want this table to be used.
God’s invitation to His table is always open. He knows that I am a child in need of nourishment and fellowship. I am always welcome, in spite of my spills and scratches.
Father, thank You that You see me as I am, but love me anyway. I am always invited to come into Your presence because of Your amazing grace.
Whitney P.
My husband had a valid point. It did seem we’d done our share of hauling tables in our SUV. Our current kitchen table had caught our eye while on our first Christmas vacation. We loaded it in the back of our car, drove for two days, and waited for my parents to bring the chairs a few months later.
That table took a beating. It saw finger food, finger paint, and still had remnants from the unfortunate chocolate milk incident of toddler years.
Fast forward fifteen years to Spring Break. Browsing through a furniture store we saw the table. This was no cast-off from a holiday pop-up store. It was a beauty. And certainly not able to ride home in our car. It would have to be carefully padded and delivered to my side door.
When it arrived weeks later, I guided the delivery team inside.
Careful please. No nicks or dents.
A few days later, when our college Bible study group arrived, I directed them to eat at the bar. Why get the table dirty? For dinner, I guided my children to the back patio.
But after I scratched that table while cleaning it, (Don’t ask.) I was reminded that tables are for meals and people and conversation. They’re for sitting down and looking in the eyes of college students that tell quirky stories and have honest questions. They’re for teenagers, games, and projects. I want this table to be used.
God’s invitation to His table is always open. He knows that I am a child in need of nourishment and fellowship. I am always welcome, in spite of my spills and scratches.
Father, thank You that You see me as I am, but love me anyway. I am always invited to come into Your presence because of Your amazing grace.
Whitney P.
No comments:
Post a Comment