A Seat at the Table
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One evening, I was sitting at my dining table with my daughter in law.
We got to talking about religion and God and church. One of those conversations that was spontaneous and went deep quickly. Later that night, I thought of other conversations that have happened around this table. The family who had lived and worked in East Africa and were now back stateside figuring out how to be “home” when this place didn’t feel like home. The International students from Japan, Saudi Arabia, Italy, and France that shared about their cultures and their families, all while leaving their mark on my heart. The young couples who have shared life with us going on 11 years that now bring their children to our table for Christmas cookie parties, Easter meals, and July 4th celebrations. I thought of many moments like these that have happened at this table in the 20 years we have called this place home.
My husband and I have lived life overseas, visited many homes, sat at many tables. One thing we knew when we came back to the states is that we wanted our home to be a place of welcome. We wanted our table to be a place where those that sit around it are fed good food and nourished with hearty fellowship.
To Welcome is to greet, to delight in, to receive the presence of…
How many times have people been received at our table and we received so much goodness in return?
We received stories. So many stories. The story of the Saudi student whose grandmother was the best cook. The story of a family who lived in NA for over ten years and brought with them a bottle of delicious olive oil that I will not soon forget. There were the siblings from Egypt who prepared some of their home cooking and set it on our table for us to enjoy. These stories hold laughter and tears and memories. We have learned so much by opening our home. We continue to learn that setting one more seat at the table is a way of welcome, a way to greet, to delight in, to receive the presence of…the next person and their story.
For those working cross-culturally, we learn quickly that you’ve truly integrated into the community when you are invited to sit around your neighbors’ tables. We also learn that the way to grow in relationship with our neighbors is to invite them around our tables too. As when we returned stateside, my husband and I took those experiences with us. Many missionaries return and have a deep well of stories they are holding inside them that are just waiting to be shared. Most are hungry for a place of welcome to sit down with good food and hearty fellowship with a listening heart waiting across the table. As the church family receiving them, we have a sweet moment here. A moment to be the person, leaning on our elbows, waiting to hear about the life they’ve lived while following the Lord.
Jesus sat at many tables with eclectic groups of people. He listened to their stories and told a few of his own usually ones that were shining a light onto the Father and His table that always seems to have an extra seat for one more. I think of this picture often. Jesus, sitting at a table, reaching over Andrew to grab a piece of bread, dipping it in deep rich green olive oil, looking at me and asking, “What story did you bring us today?” He’s smiling, giving me space to share, unhurried. I feel seen and begin to share my story with the Author who knows and loves me well.
When my daughter in law and I finished our conversation that evening, we sat quietly for a moment. We had entered a deeper level in our relationship and we both felt it. The quiet allowed us to digest the goodness of the moment. She shared a story. I received her story. She enjoyed her chips and salsa. I enjoyed my homemade tomato soup. We had given space for each of us to be seen and heard and hopefully known. My hope is our table will continue to be a place of welcome for the people that sit with us. A place where their stories can be held, unhurried, and delighted in. My husband cooks a tasty barley and lamb stew with a rustic sourdough bread to go with it.
Please join us. There is always room for one more.
