MY PLACE AT THE TABLE

I remember visiting my grandmother, my dad’s mom.  At meal time, it was always a challenge to find a place at her table.  My grandmother was loved by all who knew her and a spectacular cook.  Her house was filled with those waiting to eat her wonderful cooking and those who just wanted to be near her. At mealtime, there were people in the living room, standing in the kitchen, anywhere you could rest and eat. To get a seat at the main table, you had to be there early or given special seating by my grandmother.  It was an honor when she sat down at your table. She was so wonderful, she would make her rounds to all the tables where people were eating and engage with them.   It wasn’t beneath her to sit and eat with the children.

 I used to marvel that none of the meals matched.  She always had something on the table that was a favorite of each guest. That takes love, care, and a great memory to accomplish every time. She was a mother of 5 sets of twins and a single child, by the way.  She knew how to make everything stretch while raising her family.  She didn’t waste or throw away any food. 

Dessert was always a hit.  My grandmother made the best cakes. They looked to be three layers high, all from scratch.  She had a variety of cakes for those who stopped by made the favorites of her children and grandchildren.  My dad got the coconut and pound where as I got the caramel and German chocolate cakes.    Since she passed away, I haven’t really felt comfortable at anyone else’s table, including my own.  I miss her smile and laughter.  The warmth of her hug and kiss will never fade from my mind or heart. There has been a void in my life that no one or no one thing can fill, only pacify.  The meals at her tables were prepared with love that nourished my body and soul.  She always made everyone feel so special.

My grandmother went to great length and preparation, like Christ did for the Last Supper, to ensure every detail was met and person considered in providing a life-giving meal.  Whatever she prepared, you could feel a part of her love for you in that meal.

The sacrifices that she and my grandfather made, like the sacrifices Jesus made for all, made a way for my father and his siblings and future generations.  At that table, I learned about myself, life and a life binding love of my family.  I learned I was unique and had an irreplaceable place in the world and at that table.

The time Jesus spent with each disciple prepared them for their destiny.  Time that my grandmother spent with me prepared me for my destiny as well.  At her table I felt loved and special.  In her presence, I felt safe and strong as if I could do anything because she was my constant supporter.  Now that she’s gone, I totally depend on Jesus’ love and encouragement.  It makes me feel special and remember that I am the apple of his eye.  When I sit around His table, I enjoy the benefits of salvation.  In His arms, I feel protected. When I sit around the table of Christ, I have access to the life cleansing blood that forever shows God’s love for me.   If I hunger and thirst, the Word tells me that Jesus is the bead of life and if I seek Him, I will never hunger or thirst.

Even though I lost my grandmother and all the love she gave, I have enough stored in my heart to carry me through.  In return for what was poured into me at the table, I want to pour into my child and others who come around my table.

I can be assured, I will never lose Jesus, my forever cheerleader.  I will always have a place at the table that Christ prepared.