This was a reflective day for me. I keep thinking about PJ and where his justice-minded heart would be leading him to serve others. My jumbled thoughts and feelings spilled out of my fingers, and this is what resulted.
The Table by Stacy MacLaren
This morning, sunlight kissed the table,
A gentle glow, reaching all who gathered.
Yet my light—dim and faltering—
Needs to shine brighter, to touch more.
At my table, the chairs are few,
Carefully placed, deliberately chosen.
But at Christ’s table, every seat is filled,
A boundless welcome, endless space.
My table must grow.
At my table, the food cools,
The bread runs low, the feast is fleeting.
But at His table, the bread is life itself—
Warm, eternal, deeply satisfying.
I must trust His provision.
At my table, we tread lightly,
Avoiding cracks in the conversation.
But at His table, the truth is spoken
And healing flows through words and tears.
I must lean in, unafraid.
At my table, I am weary,
Counting minutes till I can rest.
But at His, the door is ever open—
Rest is given freely, joy abides.
My heart must learn this rhythm.
At my table, the guest list is small,
Curated with caution and comfort in mind.
But His table beckons every soul,
Neighbor and stranger, near and far.
I must widen my embrace.
And so, I see the truth laid bare:
At His table, we learn to love—
To love Him with all we are,
To love our neighbors as ourselves.
But too often, we linger at our own,
Forgetting to sit where grace abounds.
The invitation is always there:
To leave our small tables behind,
And take our place
At the endless, radiant
Table of Christ.
