At The Table

The table is set. A banner over the table flutters in the wind. Words in red decorate the banner: “Love Never Changing! Always Self-sacrificing.” Perching on the banner pole, a white dove.

All around the table, not too close  but not too far, ominous words of enmity and darkness block the sun.

From an eagle’s  view the table is an island of faith, hope, and love amidst the ruins.

The king dispatches his invitation every morning. He waits at the table. “Come and dine. Come and drink. Bring no money. All is free. All you can eat, all you can drink. 

I come, prodigal-like—“I’m not worthy to be called your son.”

“You are beloved to me. I give immeasurable worth to all I invite and love. I’m pleased to call you son.”

“What can I bring to this table?”

I hear his voice, “Come as you are. Hide nothing.”

“What’s in your hands?” the host asks, as I draw closer.

Standing near the table, I open my hands. “Nothing in my hands I bring, only to your love I cling. Open and broken I come. Only you can change me.”

“But only you may give me access, Georges. What’s your login ID?” 

“AchildofGodcleansedbyHisblood!”

“That’s an unusually long ID login.”

“I know, but it’s the best. It’s lodged in my memory.”

“Ok. And your password?”

“Openness.” I hasten to add, “I give you access in humility, yielded and broken. Open.”

“Thank you! I don’t intrude. I respect boundaries. I’m in charge but won’t barge.”

“Do sit down, child. Rest yourself. Lighten your burden. You’re not a passerby, are you?”

“Not I,” I say. I sit.

I place my hands on the table, then open them. He takes my hands in his. We both look up. His eyes bright like a refiner’s fire. I’m ready to connect. Yielded and still.

I anticipate insightful conversations, nourishing food, deep rest and open arms. Just the kind of place I need each morning. I come desiring change. I come to decorate the table of the King with my inner life. I come open, my heart exposed.

A baby in his mother’s arms. Satisfied. Free. Open to receive love. (Psalm 131).

At the table of my inner life with God, what I bring and need most is openness. He requires nothing else. With openness he can pour in grace  without limits. I come as I am. I won’t leave the same.

How do you come to the table? Not reluctantly, I hope. Transformation and joy await those who come with open hearts. In openness is our salvation.