You invited me to the table when I was a child. I eagerly came and ate of the bread of your body and drank the wine of your blood. I was washed by the waters of redemption, I was clean.
You invited me to the table when I was a teenager. I would sit for a short while eating and asking questions. Then I was off again.
You invited me to the table when I was in college. I had a boyfriend then that I liked to bring with me to sit. We did not have any time to linger though, we had our life to sort out. We would pick and choose what you set before us to eat.
You invited me to the table when I became a farmer’s wife. There my husband and I ate in abundance. We laughed and engaged in the most interesting conversations. You taught us, we reap what we sow, and it feeds us for life.
You invited me to the table as a young wife. I came alone because my husband was busy working, so I could not stay long.
You invited me to the table after my first child was born. Then the food was so important to replenish my exhausted body. I wanted to stay longer, but the baby needed me.
You invited me to the table when I had three little children and my mother lay in a hospital bed at Christmas. Then I fell across the table with my arms heavy from the burden of grief and sadness. You had to feed me then.
You invited me to the table when my children were teenagers. You so lovingly set extra places for them and their friends. So many questions were asked, and we devoured the nourishing meals and so enjoyed the desserts!
You invited me to the table when all those children were married, and my husband and I were alone in the house. We welcomed the company and slowly ate our food dreaming with You of the days to come.
You invited me to the table when my husband was diagnosed with cancer. Only the two of us came to the table. You mercifully served us with food to sustain our life and an extra measure of grace to soothe our souls.
You invited me to the table when I became a grandmother. Your table always has plenty of seats. Getting those tiny children to sit long is not easy but you helped me capture them for a moment. They look forward to the table filled with the sweet drink of love and all the delicious food of faith that You set before them.
You invited me to the table when I was an old woman. It is so easy to sit for hours. I crave the bread of your body and the wine of your blood. I feel the warm blanket of redemption that covers my body. I smell the beautiful flowers at the table of faith. You have served me helping after helping of hope. You have poured out an extra measure in my life of the greatest of these, love.
Thank you, Lord, for inviting me to Your Table.
Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you are sitting at The King’s Table today!
Blessings,
Carrie
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