Table of Abundance

A table is spread. It’s rough-hewn, heavy benches sink into the lush grass beneath, and low-hanging trees cover above. A feast is spread on a crisp, white table cloth. People laugh and chatter together as heaps of food spill over in abundance.

You can’t help but smile and rejoice in the goodness before you. Reaching for a juicy apple from a wooden bowl, you settle yourself into the joyful gathering. A gentle breeze whispers through the silverware, glass dishes, and delicate bouquets of eucalyptus and lilacs.

Slowly, maybe suddenly, the people clear the beautiful dishes and crisp table cloth, dispersing in laughing pairs into the thick forest. The last person glances over at you, smiles, and takes away your plate before leaving with the others.

The table is empty and quiet.

A stillness settles over you. There’s so much joy to reflect on as the last voices echo through the pines. But after a little while, you begin to feel very alone and somewhat hollow. A part of you seems to have walked away with the joy-filled people. The abundance of that table suddenly feels a thousand miles away, though you are still seated on its ruddy bench.

You begin to feel like maybe there’s something you’re missing. Abundance had felt so right!

An empty stillness seems to hang in the forest. You begin to rub your hands together in discomfort, looking all around you for something to fill the space. Should you leave or stay? Where would you go?

Just as you finally decide to leave, out of the corner of your teary eye, you realize that you aren’t the only one at the table…

A man sits quietly with his hands on the heavy table top; His gaze catches yours, and something pulls you nearer to Him. Soon, you’re in the seat next to Him, and you realize hours, maybe days, have gone by in His presence, talking and in silence.The table, though quite empty of food and others, feels fuller than ever before, and you discover that you’d never truly known abundance until now. 

After a time, the people reappear, the white cloth is spread, steaming dishes are set out, and the laughter and fullness of togetherness resurfaces. Now, your heart feels like it may burst with joy. You glance at the One sitting near you this time, and He smiles warmly.

Happiness is shared as the setting sun beams through the oaks and pines. Then, just as before, the people gather all the goodness that is spread and slowly depart from the table back into the thick wood.

This time, you are near Him still. The deep abundance never came and left. And you rejoice in the beauty of changing fullness, but abiding abundance.