What Our Table Says About Us
For everything there is a season.
Hello friend,
Last night Russ and I sat at the table eating a simple dinner. I’m still recovering from travel and haven’t had the energy to cook much beyond brown rice, shredded chicken, and soup made from all of the not-so-fresh vegetables I found in the fridge when I got home.
After dinner, we broke out Banagrams and played a round before settling in to watch an episode of The West Wing. I’m terrible about playing games but I see the value in having fun together, and you know what? It was actually fun. Also, I always say Russ is a numbers person and I’m a words person, but he’s pretty darn good at words too and we were equally competitive.
Today, as I sat down at my desk, I glanced over at our table and remembered these words I wrote years ago. I have a question for you at the end.
They carried it through the door of our little brick house. Two heavy pedestals with claw feet, followed by two halves of the tabletop. There were two leaves, each 18 inches wide, giving us three feet to extend the length of our table.
I envisioned it with children circling around, and friends crowded in, bowls of steaming soup and warm homemade bread in front of each smiling face. My heart swelled at the thought.
It was our tenth wedding anniversary gift to each other, this table.
Heavy oak, custom-made by a man who, unfortunately, decided 1994 was the year to experiment with a new finish – a thick coating that still gets sticky each summer and can be scraped off by curious fingernails.
The day the table was delivered, we had four children and we dreamed of one or two more. Strangers questioned our family size, but we believed children were a blessing from the Lord. I wanted a table filled with love, food, and laughter.
God answered the longing of my heart. He gave us two more children while we lived in Colorado.
Three years later we moved to Idaho and added one leaf to the table – our family was complete.
We loved having people over for dinner often pulling the second leaf out of the coat closet for Sunday gatherings. The ten-foot table fit our family and plenty more.
One week before my 39th birthday, to our great joy, we had a baby girl, and our family was complete – really, this time we were done.
When she was three, and life seemed strangely calm, God opened our hearts to the needs of orphans in Ethiopia, and we felt led to adopt. We added four more children to our family and from 2007 onward, our table permanently held both leaves. Ten feet in length, it filled our dining room.
Until last week.
To everything, there is a season…
Our family was once expanding, a long, deep inhale, growing, taking up more and more space. Now we’re exhaling, becoming smaller, our house emptying, our table less crowded.
This seems to have happened quickly and rather dramatically with a few of our older kids moving out of state this year. Our college-age daughter is gone for the summer and moving in with friends when she returns.
We’re down to five kids at home. With our foster daughter possibly returning home to her mom in the coming months and another young adult eager for more independence, who knows what this year may hold?
Too many evenings found five or six of us eating dinner at one end of a ten-foot table and it seemed time to say, “This is us; this is the family we are now.”
It was time to take a leaf out of the table.
I won’t deny some sadness, but the leaf is in the coat closet and can easily be added to the table when the big kids are home.
One day, maybe not too many years from now, we’ll inhale again and expand to add more spouses and even grandchildren. Our home and table will fill again when they visit.
There are seasons, and right now we’re called to focus on the younger children in our family, a crew with significant trauma and needs.
Although the numbers are small, the task is not.
This is a new season and I’m finding my way in it; a smaller table, fewer children at home, my big kids spreading out around the country. Life feels very different.
My table reminds me our family is changing; I can change too. I am strong enough for this.
For everything, there is a season.
Question:
Is there an item, a place, or an activity that feels symbolic of a season of your life? Maybe it’s a season that has passed or perhaps you’re in the thick of it. Maybe it feels bittersweet or it makes you laugh.
Drop a comment and share your thoughts in just a few words or a whole lot. I’d love to hear from you. Or feel free just to say hello!
With love,
Lisa
P.S. I can’t believe I haven’t mentioned that I released a new book last month! Where are my priorities? More next time, but you can take a look here.
Awe I have been thinking much about our table the last couple weeks. A sweet couple asked if they could build us a table for our family. Thai was many years ago. At the time we had 8 teens and a couple other kids in the home. We didn’t fit around our table. So this couple in their 70s cut trees form their property, milled the wood in their own mill, and created a personal table that just fit the space we had. Jake, just took his last breathe on earth a few weeks ago. He was in his 90s when he died. I can’t count the memories, meals, and people who have shared food and games with us at that table. It is my most precious piece of furniture. Now most of our kids are grown and beginning families of their own. Holidays are fun as they all come back. We also fill the table every Sunday after church with a crew. I am adjusting to sometimes not filling the table but when I look at it I can hear the laughter, see the smiles, and think about the highs and lows we shared as we sat around this piece of wood.
What came to my mind was our big Ford Excursion. It could hold 9 passengers, and even though it used lots of gas and wasn't fancy-looking, it transported us and our 5 kids with adequate space for us and our "gear". (And with all the struggles/fights between our kids and their past trauma, we often thank God for his directing us to a big vehicle. As our kids grew, some of them are over 6 feet tall now, and because a smaller vehicle would have increased fighting due to closer proximity of everyone)
About 18 months ago, we sold it, and it was bittersweet to let go after more than 8 years of use. Our 3 oldest(adopted) kids no longer live here at home, and gas prices being SOOO high made it necessary to downsize. It was the most reliable vehicle we have ever owned, even though it was 18 years old when we sold it. We said it was God's provision, our version of Israelite sandals that didn't wear out during the wandering in the dessert. God is faithful, even when our circumstances are so hard!