You sit at the table... With me.

A few weeks ago, I was at dinner with Hannah and Cheyenne. Hannah and I were talking about Bethany Dillon's music and the song came up that says, "You sit at the table with the wounded and the poor. You laugh and share stories with the thief and the whore. You could just be silent and leave us here to die but still you sent your son for us. You are on our side." We talked about a lot of other things and we laughed a lot (of course!) but I couldn't shake the words of the song for the life of me. No, it's not because she says the word "whore." I want you to know that my mind is not as sweet as it appears. I've said very unpleasant things in my head to lots to people. Cue my next point on this. A couple of Sundays after that, I went to get lunch in between a hair cut and a meeting at church before Refuge. I was at a BBQ place. I was alone but I didn't really think too much of it because I do it all the time and quite frankly so do a lot of people in case you haven't noticed. 

I was reading a book and eating and minding my own business glancing up every once in a while to look at the kids at another table. A couple sat down at the table across from me at one point and I just felt weird. I tried the friendly smile. I tried the "I'm reading a good book" face. I tried the "Was your food good too?" face to no avail. I just got a weird expression and whispers. Whispers make my life so awkward. Ugh. Regardless, I'm wanting to cry because the book I'm reading is so freaking good. 

This is it. Becoming the Answer to Our Prayers by Shane Claiborne and Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove. It is phenomenal. So I'm thinking of the Bethany Dillon song, reading this book while I'm obviously getting weird looks. Oh and I'm eating lunch. So basically my life was ripping to shreds in one way or another. At one point, the authors state: "If people really knew what idiots we are, in all our brokenness and vulnerability, they would know that they could give this thing a shot too. Christianity is for sick people." I wanted to jump up and shout, "Amen!" in Michelle style but I refrained and sat quietly with tears in my eyes. An overwhelming gratefulness filled my heart for the millionth time this summer. Grateful for God's great rescue of my life from a pit I jumped in. Grateful that God uses my not so sweet mouth and the thoughtless words that come out of it for His glory.  

While sitting alone in a restaurant full of people, God rewrote the song I had talked with Hannah about. While the couple across from me was whispering, He was too-- something way more significant. It was like He paused time and said, "Melissa, I sit across the table from the thief, the wounded, the broken, the whores, and you." Deep sigh. A huge realization that I am no better than any of them-- and that my sin is not seen differently. I am in great need of a great Savior. He brought up a few times where I had been broken hearted, a few too many times that I was emotionally over committed or so crazy over the idea of marriage. He brought up times where I had stolen the joy of others because I didn't feel that way. I am them. We are the people He has chosen to love. 

The idiots. The thoughtless ones who never shut up. The ones who hurt others on purpose. The ones who steal life from other people. The ones who love less because they want revenge. The ones who are inclined to think too much on things God has said "wait for it." 

He sat at the table with me that day. He spent time with me. He reminded me of His deep compassions, sweet mercies, and His pursuit to run after me when I get up from the table angry and frustrated. He gently restores my weary soul and puts a new song in my mouth. My resounding lesson has been to trust Him more and I do. I trust His pursuit and Truth. I trust His love and care. I trust His grace is enough. I trust His unwavering and relentless faithfulness to me- a mess without Him. 

There is hope- He's waiting at the table for you too. What are you running from?? 

May He bind your wandering heart to Him as He is mine. -Melis