The Dinner Table

My mother has always been a wonderful cook. I remember the days of my childhood when it would be time for the evening meal. Mouth-watering aromas filled the air. When my father, sister, and I heard the words, “Suppertime!” we would head for the dinner table in pleasureful anticipation. We were never disappointed. There would be bowls and platters filled with succulent delights. Not one time did my mother call, “Suppertime!” and lay the table with empty bowls.

If we know our earthly parents would never be so cruel as to call us to a meal, then serve nothing at all, why do we treat our Heavenly Father as if He might do that very thing? Our Father’s table is always plentiful, overflowing with everything we need. Why do we shy away from asking forgiveness when His table is full of grace and mercy? When we are hungry for something to ease away our worries, why do we look elsewhere for our sustenance when our Father’s table has His own sweet comfort ready for us to devour? When we are perplexed, having no idea which road in life to travel, why do we seek worldly counsel, when our Father’s table has platters of direction that is without mistake? When we are saddened, grieved, or hurt in any manner, why do we languish in despair when our Father’s table serves inner peace to bring healing to all our painful wounds?

My mother’s table was always filled with fresh, deliciously cooked food for her family. I never doubted what she prepared for me, and often, there were leftovers! Ummm! What fun to be able to go back to the fridge at a later time in the evening, knowing I was welcome to have another taste of my mother’s yummy dishes.

Our Heavenly Father’s table is always full. His bowls and platters of manna are forever fresh and bountiful. There is enough for everyone. His provisions never run out. We are all welcome. Come to His table and eat. No one will be disappointed in doing so; only gladness and joy unspeakable is found at our Father’s table.