I pinned plans and pictures of farmhouse tables to my Pinterest board. It was time for us to get a new table and I had the perfect one pictured in my head. The table we had was getting a little small and a little worn out. Scott and I purchased our first table in 2004 when we bought our first house together.

This little table is filled with so many memories. If the table could talk, it would tell of the first Thanksgiving we hosted, how it was set so pretty to help sell our home so we could move to Texas, how it’s been painted and repainted; sanded and stained countless times. The table has nicks and scratches and little pieces of play-dough stuck in the crevices. If our table could talk, it would tell of the many stories that were shared around it: those precious moments we shared all squished together.

I wish our little table could talk. I wish it could tell of the stories that occurred around the four sides. It was time for our table to move on to a new family and for us to get a larger one. I have visions of our little family expanding as the boys grow: friends, girlfriends, wives, grandchildren. I needed to make more room around the table. So, Scott got me a new table for my birthday. I still need more chairs for the table. We need more seats to fill. I want them all mismatched. I feel like that’s a testament to life having mismatched chairs around the table.

I love life around the table. I have a large cozy couch that can accommodate many. We never end up there though. We always end up around the table. The table brings life and nourishment; safety and comfort. Stories are told, lived, felt, and breathed around the table. Debates are had and resolved. Courage if forged. Tears are shed and wiped away all around the table. Hate is not our story. Conversations around our tables extinguish hate and rewrite our stories with hope. Our stories can’t change until everyone is welcome at our tables; until fear and hate are not allowed.

Last night, our family had a conversation around the table that I didn’t expect to have this soon. My boys are young but their world is waiting and ready to swallow them whole. It doesn’t care about their age. We talked about people, our differences, and who deserves love. We went around and decided who is welcome in the church. They got it. Probably better than most of us grown-ups. As much as I want to shield my boys, those conversations around the table are pivotal to the success of our future; especially the future of the Church.

We need to get back to life around the table. Our kids need to be a part of hard conversations around the table. Stories need to be told, shared, heard, and loved. Life needs to be worked out around the table. People need to be welcomed around our table. Not just people that look like you, act like you, and live like you. Being the hands and feet of the Church means you open your table up to everyone. Your kids need to see this. You need to practice this. This is the Church.

We know this. We know and desire this deep within our souls. We are created for fellowship breaking bread around the table.

Who is allowed around your table? Who fills those chairs? This is a question we must conquer; especially today. Is there a chair available for anyone or do you have standards for who can join the table?

When I think about life around the table, I think about Jesus. He hung out around the table a lot. His church was around tables and in open fields not some fancy church building. He went where the people were. He spent time and shared meals at the table with many who were rejected. He ate and broke bread with the sinner, the lost, those abandoned, the shamed, the disaster, the thief, liar, and the snitch. Jesus sat at the table with the least of these. He had those conversations that we shy away from. He was politically incorrect with his words and actions but never a sinner.

Jesus loved around that table. He listened intently. He listened. He shared. He breathed life into the people sitting around the table. Those who joined him at the table felt love for the very first time. They finally felt accepted in a world where they were the outcast. Everyone is welcome at His table. EVERYONE.

Jesus spent his last days around the table. He shared a meal and life around the table with his friends: those who proclaimed their allegiance to him but would betray and deny their beloved in the coming days. Jesus knew their fate but still sat at the table. He knew they would betray him but he still loved. Jesus spoke one of the most quoted and profound Scriptures around that table. John 13:34-35 says, ” So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other. Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples.”

Who sits at your table? Who is allowed to partake breaking bread and sharing stories? What is fair game for conversation around your table. I believe that it starts at the table in our homes. This is what church looks like. Life is built around the table. If we ignore the table and let it get dusty, our lives suffer. If we exclude people from our tables, life gets ugly. If we open our tables and allow vulnerability and love to thrive, grow, and be challenged around our tables, life becomes a breeding ground of goodness.

We want to know where it starts; how we change the course we are on. We know the trajectory of our path is destructive as of late. We are all falling apart and torn in two at the horrors of our world. We are lost and hurt and broken. We don’t know where to turn. The church, to many, seems disengaged, broken, and not a place of comfort. Our answer, our freedom from all this unrest is sitting in our kitchens, our dining rooms, on our patios, and in our restaurants: the table. It’s there. Shake the dust off and pull up an extra chair because ALL are welcome at the table.

Love & Blessings,
Meg

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” John 13:35