Dinner is on the Table
The morning we arrived in Costa Rica, I was a ball of -I don't know what. More than nerves.
It was not a bad flight. We flew from Tallahassee to Miami, then on to Costa Rica. It wasn't long--nothing like flying to Cambodia--or even Bolivia! I had neuropathy bad in both feet--and some of my fingers--all due to chemo. I was told--it might not ever go away...
We were picked up by members of the team--and greeted with joy and excitement. I was already exhausted. So my excitement level was pretty much faked. I had had one good night's sleep in a row of weeks of tiredness and completing the radiation treatments to finish off whatever hidden cancer cells that might be lurking.
The welcoming committee brought the big van--which was a good thing with all luggage we had, plus a trunk of household items, bedding and linens for eight months. That was mighty hard to pack --not really knowing what was available- but knowing for sure it would be too expensive to have to buy it again in Costa Rica. Cost of living is much more expensive there--pretty much like it is HERE right now.
The host family assigned to help us settle--get our phones set up and take us to the grocery store, did all that and more. They were amazing. Once we completed all the necessary things we returned to the campus and the apartments. He gave us instructions that his wife was cooking a meal for our first night and that they lived just around the corner from our apartment.
Y'all I was a bundle of fear and anxiety. It was something that unnerved me because that wasn't like me. I had a constant recorded broken record in my head that played over and over how careful I needed to be because my immune system was trashed. How do you be careful in a place where you needed to drink only bottled water--never from the faucet? I mean, we do it for a week on a mission trip--but this was eight months...
As we lugged everything inside the little two room apartment, Jeff sat down to work on getting his phone and the banking things working, which was frustrating with us not being in the USA. Even though we had told them we would be out of the country for a while. He made phone calls and sent text messages and let the family know we had arrived safely. I, on the other hand NEEDED physical work. The mind boggling stuff was something I just couldn't do then. I would break out in a sweat just dealing with my phone not cooperating. So I preferred to work to up a frenzy while setting up the house.
I unpacked and put our clothes in wicker baskets on the bookshelves since there was no chest of drawers or dresser, and then made up the bed. I put all the bathroom items away and the few kitchen things I had brought. Dishes would be bought there. There were a few plates, cups, etc., but this apartment was created for two people. Not for having company come and feeding them from the little table in the kitchen.
Using paper products in a foreign country is actually considered wasteful. Big time. Still today, I always hesitate at buying paper plates, and unless we are having a ginormous family gathering, I opt to wash dishes.
I worked like Martha. Sweating and growing more frustrated as the time ticked away. Finally, I paused long enough to send a message to our host family to let us know when dinner (supper) was ready as we didn't want to intrude on their family time--and I really didn't want to sit in someone's home passing time when I had things that needed to be done.
Well, I think they each thought the other one had sent us a message that dinner was ready. As I was folding towels for the bathroom, Jeff told me that a member of another family they were helping had posted a picture of them sitting around the table on Facebook. I quickly washed my hands and face, straightened my clothes as best I could, and we hurried out the door and around the corner to their apartment.
When we walked in after the "come on in" call from inside after we knocked, there was a surprised look on the faces of those around the table.
His wife immediately jumped to and said let me cook more pasta. The pans were empty. We quickly said, "no, please don't worry." I sat down in the chair offered...Jeff stood. They apologized. "No worries", we assured them. One of the little girls from the other new family was sitting in a chair beside me playing with her dolls, looking up at me she said, "I was here first." Point taken.
Later that evening (we didn't stay long), as we were scrambling eggs and making toast for our supper--the LORD reminded me of the Great Supper (Luke 14:15-24). The Master has the meal prepared. "Come, for all things are now ready."
There's no way we will be ready if we are so consumed with all our stuff, or if we put our desires ahead of His call and His heart. I had done just that. I had put my desires that day ahead of the invitation. I desired order. An invitation had been issued--yet I felt I could do ALL my stuff and still get there on time. We can't.
Submission is tough at times. Putting the needs of others ahead of what we want to do is critical to being able to sit at the Master's table. A selfish person will not sit with the Master. A prideful person won't even have a place in the buffet line.
Oh, Father! Remove all such feelings from me! Help me see what I need to see in myself --all that I need to release to You--so that You can rid me of it--once and for all. Until I let go of what I want--I cannot enjoy what YOU want for me.
What about you? Are you still trying to get it all done? Are you still planning that HGTV perfected home? There is nothing wrong with making things pretty. There's nothing wrong with comfort. The "wrong" comes in when we are never satisfied. The "wrong" appears when we think we must have the exact style of kitchen as so-and-so, or the newest whatever...
Stop a minute and ask yourself...what will this matter in light of eternity? Nothing.
It will cost you here for sure-- and it could possibly cost you There.
Every-single-time a loved one passes away, I imagine that they are taking their place and doing their part in preparations for the Marriage Supper of the Lamb. I imagine them filling ice in glasses-which is always the last thing done before we call them in. I imagine chairs being adjusted, forks straightened and a general air of anticipation of what is about to be set before us. I imagine the call coming "now".
"Dinner is on the table! Come on and wash up!"
Our washing up is done now. Here. While we have the chance. There is no washroom close by once we leave this life. It's now or never. Please don't be like I was in Costa Rica, consumed with what I felt I needed to do--oblivious to the fact the table was being set in my busyness and the food was being laid out...ready to be consumed by those who had paid attention to the time....
The time is now. We have this one day. The one we are breathing in right now. The one before us. We don't even have the promise of the whole day. Our lives are a vapor and we have no control of the timeline of it already written. We need to pay attention to what is drawing our attention away from the Master.
Be aware that the enemy truly is seeking to devour--to discourage and distract.
Pray for your brothers and sisters who are walking this journey with us. They need your encouragement. Sometimes they need a physical shoulder to cry on--physical hands to hold in prayer. Every believer's home is under attack. If it's not, it will be if you are in any way a threat to the devil. I intend to be a threat until I draw my last breath. Problems arise daily--for everyone. But we have an Advocate...who goes to the Father on our behalf...and He is always available to hear us...and He leads us forward. To the Table. To the Feast.
Dinner is on the table.... are you ready?
[Side-note: Our missionary friends were the most precious individuals who gave us so much of their time-teaching us, helping us, coaching us.... we shared many meals together weekly--they were our family. We walked to the Pizza Hut so many times with them, often in the rain. I don't think I could have made it without our sweet neighbors. God gave us the best!]
Comments
Post a Comment