My nephew climbed up in the front seat of my car, absolutely beaming after school. Picking up my niece and nephew from school rank very high in the order of things that are sacred to me. They climb in and sometimes, when time and work allow, we head off on adventures around town. Mostly, we’re hunting down where to eat and this day was no exception.
We decided on Chick-fil-a and chatted about his day, my day, and the basketball games that night where my niece would perform with the drill team during halftime.
After our order was placed, he turned to face me, a mischievous grin still spread across his face. “Today, we had a thanksgiving project where we had to invite people to the table and tell everybody why,” he said. “Guess who I invited!”
I suggested several names, including late presidents and baseball stars. None of them were invited, although he admitted Houston Astro’s second baseman Altuve would have been a great one to invite so they could talk about playing baseball.
Who he invited was someone I should have thought of first.
“I invited God,” he said proudly. And his reason was simple. “Because He made everything, and I want to tell Him thank you.”
His sincere, authentic invitation got me thinking.
Who am I inviting to my table, not just for thanksgiving, but daily to sit with me as I go through my day? Hurry? Envy? Jealousy? Pride? These are easy tablemates that bring unwanted guests with them. Soon, shame, fear, and hurt are piling on old conflicts and deepening old wounds.
I know I’m not alone in this. And you don’t have to be either. I’d like to invite you to my table. Come sit with me as we review the guest list. Perhaps, together we could think of a few to add to the guest list. You know what I’d like to start off with? I’d like to invite peace to the table.
And you know what peace brings? Joy.