A Table Between Us

When evening came, Jesus was reclining at the table with the Twelve.

—Matthew 26:20

I’m worn out and the house is ragged, but my mind and heart are full from last night’s Cooking Club celebration for Brannon’s baby. It was a lovely, wild night—babies everywhere, dishes sprawled all over the kitchen, platters of brisket and plates of macaroons fighting for space among wine glasses and forks.

As I got the house ready, I thought that it might be nice to sit in the living room. I moved furniture, made a place for presents, and set up a buffet on the round table.

When everything was ready, I tried to move everyone to the living room, and it just didn’t work. I kept urging them toward the buffet, toward the couches and chairs in the living room. Finally I admitted defeat, and we pulled a love seat up to the dining room table for extra seating and settled in happily. That’s where we belong, it seems—around the table.

When Josilyn moved to Haiti, she wrote us a letter to say good-bye. Her letter included this line: I can’t imagine life without a table between us. Yes. The table is the life raft, the center point, the home base of who we are together.