If my kitchen table could talk, oh, the secrets it would tell you!
It would tell of countless weeknight meals eaten together as a family.
It would replay the memories of loud pocket change poker games played with giggly cousins and good friends.
Our favorite jokes would be retold including those silly ones we made up that no one else on the planet would find funny.
It would tell you of a child struggling to learn. It would show you the countless tears shed and the grit to keep trying even when it hurts and even when its seems impossible.
If my kitchen table could talk, it would tell you about sad things and hard things. It would tell you of tears poured out as we have grieved losses of many shapes and sizes.
It would tell you of the wounds we have inflicted on each other while simultaneously wounding ourselves.
It would tell you of wobbly marriage moments where the commitment to stay was nailed down once and for all.
Sure, we’ve made lots of mistakes here. Even in those ugly spaces, grace has come and tenderly brought us back to center.
I have often thought of replacing that old table with its wood-bare finish and conglomeration of ridiculously mismatched chairs. I’ve dreamed of those matching sets with mirror like glazes. But you know what? Those new tables just don’t have these stories.
This table, more than it bares its age and its use, bears our family’s history. A history still in the making. A history which is an about-face toward wholeness lost in generations past. This table is a marker.
It’s the evidence of people who are not just making history, no, we are changing history. We are exchanging generations of brokenness and separate ways for unity, strength, and a solidarity that will resound for generations to come.
The future balances on the edge of my kitchen table.
If my kitchen table could talk, it would tell you that things don’t have to be the way they’ve always been.
My kitchen table would tell you that your past is a holy invitation directly from the Kingdom to do something great by simply building a solid foundation upon which the future may firmly position its feet and rise.
Your one God-breathed life is a historical pivot point.
This building of a solid home and nurturing hearts is no small thing contrary to what the world may tell you. Your part to play in the Kingdom is a big deal and it is for right now.
This Kingdom work doesn’t require lofty degrees or abundant wealth. Changing history simply requires us to recognize the weight of glory Jesus has placed on the ordinary stuff right here in front of us.
My kitchen table may look ordinary at first glance but it is an altar of sorts. It’s a place where the Presence of Jesus meets us.
The food in the fridge may appear as something ordinary but Jesus ordains it as an experience of His healing, nurturing and provision. Can you imagine the impact, if our hands were to prepare it with such recognition?
All of these seemingly ordinary pieces of our daily lives are truly extraordinary tools placed in our hands by a Master Craftsman who isn’t simply looking to build things but to build healthy people with unbreakable bonds which are the very foundation upon which society rests.
I challenge you to ask Jesus for eyes to see what He sees. Your role here is precious. You are needed. Your kitchen table matters to the Kingdom.