January's Poem: The Table By the Window, in the Corner of the Room
Walking through the door, I lift my eyes to see if I will find Him there- sitting where He always does, at the table by the window, in the corner of the room.
I hesitate for a moment and then slowly start in His direction. He looks up and smiles at me as if He's known all along that I would decide to come. In fact, it is almost as if He's been waiting.
Sheepishly, I lay down all that I have been carrying in my arms as I join him at the table by the window, in the corner of the room. He sits quietly as I settle in and after a moment, He speaks into the quiet, "I'm glad you're here."
I shift nervously in my seat as I wait for Him to reveal His purpose for inviting me and struggle over the guilt of ignoring his invitations. I wait for Him, but He says nothing. There must be a reason. What is He going to say to me? What is He thinking? Have I disappointed Him?
With a hurried heart and scattered thoughts I quickly break the silence with shallow conversation, fearing that if I do not say something now, He may just leave. But instead, HE LEANS IN.
Surprised, I continue speaking, waiting for him to glance down at His watch or check His phone. He doesn't. Does he actually want to hear about my nightmare day in the office? Am I not boring him with my "little" words? His eyes lock into mine. I want to look away, but find that I cannot. He laughs with me at my crazy stories.
With a decided new courage, I dare to go deeper, to bare the disgusting details, to let Him see the messy reality of my brokenness. After spilling it all, I wait for the disapproval. Nothing. To my utter surprise, He does not back away from the table by the window, in the corner of the room. Instead, HE LEANS IN.
With pain in His eyes, He asks me directly, "When will you begin to realize that I'm not going anywhere? I am not afraid of your "messes" or shocked by your failures. I just want you to share them with me."
As I get up and gather my things, my heart feels lighter and it begins to dawn on me. There is FREEDOM at the table by the window, in the corner of the room. Not expectation. Not pressure. Not obligation. Just an ever-present, always-open invitation. My heart is singing as I leave, and I can't wait now to get back to True Love, waiting for me at the table by the window in the corner of the room.
(His love for me waits eagerly. It does not push, prod, or expect. It pursues. I am so slow in coming, so weak, so hesitant. But Jesus always pursues me in faithfulness, patience, and gentleness. He speaks Truth into my life. He corrects me when I am wrong. He calls me out, but always in love. He never forces me into anything, because He wants me to CHOOSE Him. His love is invitation, not obligation.)
Walking through the door, I lift my eyes to see if I will find Him there- sitting where He always does, at the table by the window, in the corner of the room.
I hesitate for a moment and then slowly start in His direction. He looks up and smiles at me as if He's known all along that I would decide to come. In fact, it is almost as if He's been waiting.
Sheepishly, I lay down all that I have been carrying in my arms as I join him at the table by the window, in the corner of the room. He sits quietly as I settle in and after a moment, He speaks into the quiet, "I'm glad you're here."
I shift nervously in my seat as I wait for Him to reveal His purpose for inviting me and struggle over the guilt of ignoring his invitations. I wait for Him, but He says nothing. There must be a reason. What is He going to say to me? What is He thinking? Have I disappointed Him?
With a hurried heart and scattered thoughts I quickly break the silence with shallow conversation, fearing that if I do not say something now, He may just leave. But instead, HE LEANS IN.
Surprised, I continue speaking, waiting for him to glance down at His watch or check His phone. He doesn't. Does he actually want to hear about my nightmare day in the office? Am I not boring him with my "little" words? His eyes lock into mine. I want to look away, but find that I cannot. He laughs with me at my crazy stories.
With a decided new courage, I dare to go deeper, to bare the disgusting details, to let Him see the messy reality of my brokenness. After spilling it all, I wait for the disapproval. Nothing. To my utter surprise, He does not back away from the table by the window, in the corner of the room. Instead, HE LEANS IN.
With pain in His eyes, He asks me directly, "When will you begin to realize that I'm not going anywhere? I am not afraid of your "messes" or shocked by your failures. I just want you to share them with me."
As I get up and gather my things, my heart feels lighter and it begins to dawn on me. There is FREEDOM at the table by the window, in the corner of the room. Not expectation. Not pressure. Not obligation. Just an ever-present, always-open invitation. My heart is singing as I leave, and I can't wait now to get back to True Love, waiting for me at the table by the window in the corner of the room.
(His love for me waits eagerly. It does not push, prod, or expect. It pursues. I am so slow in coming, so weak, so hesitant. But Jesus always pursues me in faithfulness, patience, and gentleness. He speaks Truth into my life. He corrects me when I am wrong. He calls me out, but always in love. He never forces me into anything, because He wants me to CHOOSE Him. His love is invitation, not obligation.)
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