This is our dining room table.
My weekly planner shares space with Titus’s dump truck. Crumbs grace the floor even though one perk of owning a dog should be no crumbs on the floor.
Real life happens here all the time, despite my efforts for ideal meals and clean floors.
Here is what a week around this hunk of wood looks like:
Monday: My hands intertwine with my husbands on top of this table. We pray for the week ahead, our calendars and weekly budget face-up on the table to give us perspective. What is God up to that we can be a part of?
Tuesday: Our table sits untouched today. Kids and I join friends for a physically and emotionally filling feast. Their graciousness to open their home to us was incredibly timely, as a busy day (with less intentionality than I would have liked) left us without thawed meat for dinner. Shane is munching on pizza as he leads Bible study on campus.
Wednesday: A round of Candy Land takes over the Table. We suck on candy canes left over from Christmas as we play. The table gets quite sticky. And I am not even sorry. I extend my writing hour past the twins’ naptime. I kick myself for putting a movie on when they wake up so I can finish a chapter… and scroll through facebook, let’s be honest. So much grace is offered to me here as Evi grabs her own notebook and pink play phone to “work with mommy.” I add on more item to my to-do list: invest affection into the kids. C’mon stay-present mama!
Thursday: On the Table rest mugs of comforting hot cocoa. I sit with a terrified college student, silent prayers constantly rising. An unplanned pregnancy threatens to unravel her, but HOPE in Jesus intervenes. I share the Good News. She accepts Jesus as her Lord and Savior. She cannot stop smiling as she walks out of my home. Beaming with peace and understanding that she is loved and adopted by the Most high God, she begins to see the life growing inside her is a blessing.
That night, we host 3 couples who will soon be embarking on the adventure of marriage. They choose to prep for the journey with pre-marital counseling. We kick off the season with a creamy chicken Parmesan dish and fun proposal stories. Young couples’ love proves contagious to Shane and I. We flirt a little more liberally as we clear the dirty dishes.
Friday: Our Table hosts our favorite meal of the week: Friday Feast! It is Shane’s day off, so we all sleep in and have a big brunch at 10 AM. We break open steamy muffins and lick our lips as we salt our egg-hash-brown mashup. Evi tells us a story about princesses and heroes. Titus interrupts with a tale of Spider-Man. Both use great transition words and vocal inflection. I start to see how much fun it is to impart a love for story-telling into our kids. Daddy kicks off a round of chase around the stairwell, and I push chairs closer to the table so nobody trips.
Saturday: The Table is a mess. It became the catch-all for this end to the busy week. I am annoyed our home isn’t magazine-tidy, but then again, when is that the life I want anyway? Only the moments I am perusing through Instagram or Better Homes and Gardens. When I really look at my table, the sticky edges and mug rings are exactly what makes this gathering place sacred… and beautiful. I ask God to change my perspective and my heart from bitter to blessed.
Sunday: A round of Spoons threatens to scratch the veneer of this lovely table top. But we don’t mind. Our Sunday Night Dinners have made their way into our weekly rhythm, and the cost is well worth the return. We host college students for a home-away-from-home gathering, and this specific night called for extra celebration. Another one of our students declared Jesus as her Lord and Savior earlier that day at a Bible study. Having been raised in a home that did not acknowledge Jesus, she came to our student ministry with an open mind, hoping to find a supportive community. What she received was an invitation into the royal family of God. We celebrated her enthusiastic RSVP with popcorn and card games. Two salvation stories in 1 week humbles me greatly.
This is our dining room table.
Spilled milk left under the paw-patrol placemat has warped the table top on the left side. Crumbs that fall daily have gathered for a perpetual conference under the beam near the floor (clearly a footrest right?).
All this, and yet how can one mama be so moved by one messy mesa?
Emotional mommy-tears are often poured out at this table. Uncontrollable laughter cascades regularly over its beams. Lots of mistakes are made as I push away kids to focus on my to-do list. Chairs get rocked back an inch too far from this table, toppling over to the sound of a wailing 3 year old.
Manners are being learned, bellies are being filled, and hearts are being healed here. The quiet hours of my morning routine here are vastly contrasted by the squealing coloring festival the twins create in the hours before nap time.
Many prayers have launched their way to Gods attentive ear from this table. Much forgiveness and grace is offered here.
Perhaps this is the most sacred spot of our home. So today, I am grateful for our dining table and the crumbs and memories made here.