The TableSample

A Seat That Hides a Limp

DEVOTIONAL

What do you do with the parts of you that feel too broken to bring to the table?

There is a man in the Old Testament who knew that feeling in his bones. His name was Mephibosheth. He was the grandson of King Saul, which made him, in the politics of the day, the heir of a fallen and rival house. He was also crippled in both feet, dropped as a child while being carried to safety. He lived in a place called Lo Debar, a name that means no pasture, a forgotten nowhere. He had every reason to believe he belonged nowhere.

Then King David, remembering a covenant he had made with Mephibosheth's father Jonathan, sent for him. Mephibosheth arrived terrified, certain he was being summoned to die, and called himself a dead dog. But David said do not be afraid, for I will surely show you kindness, and you will always eat at my table. And so this broken man, the son of the enemy's house, ate at the king's table like one of the king's sons.

Here is the detail that undoes me. He ate at the table. And a table covers your feet. Every meal, the same lame feet that marked him as broken were hidden beneath the king's table, while above it he looked like a son. He did not stop being lame. He just stopped being defined by it, because he had a seat.

That is what the table does. It does not require you to fix the limp first. It covers it, and calls you son. And it was not Mephibosheth's worthiness that brought him there, but a covenant made by someone else, which is exactly where we go tomorrow.

REFLECTION

What is the limp you are most afraid to bring to God's table? What might change if you believed the table covers it rather than exposes it?

TAKE A SEAT

Name one thing about yourself you feel disqualifies you, and bring it to God's table anyway today, trusting He calls you son or daughter, limp and all.

PRAYER

Father, like Mephibosheth I have lived in my own Lo Debar, sure I belonged nowhere. Thank You that You call me to Your table not because I am whole, but because of Your covenant kindness. Cover my limp, and call me Your child. Amen.