Robynn and I were recently texting about Thanksgiving. This year both of us will fill our houses and hearts with people who are hurting. These will be the tables of the broken-hearted, chairs of the grieving, glasses of the bewildered, and dessert plates of the deserted.
What do we do when our tables are filled with the broken-hearted?When comfort feels as elusive as sunshine in winter?
We raise glasses of gratitude, because gratitude precedes the miracle. And God knows, we need miracles.
As we texted back and forth, comfort and friendship were in every word. Though miles away, we were walking beside each other.
Robynn’s last text to me that day is the one I have posted below. May you who fellowship with the broken-hearted know that we are with you through this Thanksgiving weekend. We pray that your tables will be ones of grace and the deepest of peace.
Broken tables and backless chairs—- we gather with pain and imperfections and pray for the great grace of gratitude to accompany our mashed potatoes and gravy.
The whole world is grey. Even the geese have flown south. We sit abandoned and isolated surrounded by noise and green bean casserole.
Jesus come. Be our healing. Be our holy guest. Make house calls to the weary and worn down. Sit with us a spell. Turn our water into wine and our emptiness into something that can hold second helpings of hope. With whip cream perhaps… wouldn’t that be all kinds of yummy?!
Marilyn and Robynn