joining Kate and crew for the FMF write…grab a pen or let your fingers fly on the keyboard and write for five minutes on one subject.
I like to think that i’d let anyone sit at the table. but these days i’m not so sure of that.
because i’m harboring bitterness…and i’d be willing to close the door right in someone’s face if they came by looking for a seat.
i think it was in Sarah Bessey’s book there was talking about all of us having a place at the table, and it resonated with me. because i haven’t always felt accepted, welcome…but i’m never quite sure if its in my head or if its reality.
and there are times when it feels like i’m that one wandering by on the snowy night, stopping to gaze longingly into the window of a house i’m passing, seeing everyone gathered around the table, laughing and conversing and it just feels like i want to belong but i don’t.
i know what its like to be on the outside. i’m not sure why this doesn’t compel me to invite others in. i like to think that i’d open my table up. But i acknowledge that the bitterness gets in the way. and its not those on the outside that i’m fighting to put their names on the invite. its people who’ve been at the table before, but wandered out the door in a hurtful manner and who left the invitation wide and gaping without acknowledgement in my hand that i’m not sure i can even fathom finding at my table again. i’d choke on the hurt…and it seems at least for this time, the table is all about me,and not about nourishing anyone else. why would i want to invite anyone to that. it’d be a pity party…and who finds that to be any fun?