It Cost Everything
It has been a hot minute since I wrote a blog. If I am honest, I haven’t had the energy to actually sit down and write something I feel is valuable enough to post. But here I am, forcing myself to write about the things I have been learning, and praying that whoever reads it might learn something too!
This month we have been in Boquette, Panama. It is a little mountain town full of great food, amazing coffee, epic hikes, waterfalls, so much rain, and even more fellowship. It was an ATL month and we spent the month learning that maybe it really is enough to just do life and love Jesus. If there is one thing I would tell any future ATLers (or even myself in future ATL months) it would be that we are not big enough to mess up God’s plan. The decision to stay or go, to speak or to keep quiet, will not surprise God and it certainly will not interrupt the plan He has already set in place. There are so many awesome stories of encountering people and God this month, but I think I want to write about something God has been unpacking for me the entirely of the race. This idea is not a small idea, nor is it inexpensive. In fact, it cost everything…
In Nicaragua on the REAP campus, Scott had us go through a book called “From Slavery to Sonship” with the squad. We would meet twice a week to discuss the chapters and during one of the discussions my sweet friend Carson said something along the lines of “I have desired a home, somewhere to put roots down. But I am learning that home is a seat at His table.” That hit me SO HARD. As someone who has never left Colorado for more than nine months and never dreamed of living outside of the US for eleven months, home is something I long for. I miss my mountains, my family, my dog, and my job (how ironic that God put me in the mountains to unpack this truth this month, He knows me so well). I have been sitting on Carson’s comment for three months now, wondering what it looks like to feel at home even while traveling. I have convinced myself that home is a place or a person, but I am starting to believe that home is not at all what I have previously defined it as.
Jesus had a thing for tables. I think I do too. When I think of my favorite memories, the majority of them include a table. Nothing gives me more life than good food, good brews, and good people surrounding a table enjoying time together, laughing together, learning together. It was this month in Panama at a table in the Boquette Brewery that I looked up to see eight women talking about Jesus, drinking the best IPA I have ever had (Sorry SKA) and I realized that I have never felt more at home.
I have always belonged to a weird group of people. I love science, reading, learning, gross things, introverting, and getting nerdy but I also love sports, beer, live music, adventuring, and people. I am, what some would call, a misfit. I don’t fit in with an specific group and while there are plenty of things to unpack with that alone, I have believed that having a place with my name on it at any given table just isn’t feasible. Frankly, I have spent years being absolutely content with that fact. But I think that maybe I have been invited to sit at a table that is full of misfits. It’s a table that Jesus fought for, died for, and prepared just for me… and there is a place card for me.
My team is full of incredible women that desperately love Jesus. It’s a group full of beautiful, kind, loving, generous, strong leaders each with a unique story. It has taken us some time to learn to trust each other, to really buy into this whole community living thing, and we still have so much to learn; but if there is one thing that makes me want to trust them more than anything, it’s that they always have a place for me at their table. When I am lost, or scared.. When I am believing the lies the enemy tosses at me.. When I feel like I don’t belong here.. they always invite me to the table, and they always have a place for me. They desire to learn about me, and they want to love me how I best experience love. They pursue me, and it is the humanized picture of what Jesus speaks about in Luke 14:16-24. They, and more importantly JESUS, want me at the table.
“The servant reported back to the host and told him of all their excuses. So the master became angry and said to his servant, ‘Go at once throughout the city and invite anyone you find—the poor, the blind, the disabled, the hurting, and the lonely—and invite them to my banquet.’ “When the servant returned to his master, he said, ‘Sir, I have done what you’ve asked, but there’s still room for more.’
Luke 14:21-22
I am the poor, blind, disabled, hurting, or lonely one at the table, and I would bet you are too. And if you’re not at the table, I promise there is a seat with your name on it waiting for you. My mama always taught us not to show up to a party empty handed, or at the very least- we should get up and do the dishes after everyone eats- but the banquet we have been invited to has only one requirement… your “yes.” If Jesus is inviting you to the table, what is keeping you from accepting the invite? If I am being super honest, what keeps me from accepting the invite is the belief that I have nothing to offer, nothing to bring to the table that could be of use, nothing of value to add. I mean, we are talking about Jesus- King of kings and Lord of lords- what could he possibly use of me? But isn’t that the mystery of the gospel? The God of the universe risked everything, I mean EVERYTHING, for a chance at a relationship with you and me. If that doesn’t absolutely blow your mind, nothing will. If that doesn’t make your heartbeat a little louder, a little stronger, you’re missing out on the greatest invitation of all time. Psalm 22 puts it like this:
The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
God goes so far as to not only prepare the table and make a seat for you, but he laughs in the enemy’s face by preparing that table in the middle of the shit-show, right in front of the enemies. No wonder you don’t feel like you have a seat at the table, the enemy wants you to believe that. He is trying to distract you, blind you, from seeing that Jesus is sitting at the table He reserved for you- a reservation that literally cost Him his life. We have to stop letting the distractions keep us from seeing the mighty love that is available and that, out of that love, an intimate relationship with Jesus is so freely available. We have to stop picking up the chains He released us from and start walking in the freedom He has called us to.
A few tables I have found myself at this month:
