Come Hungry

Throughout my life, going to my grandma Colette’s house was a special event. Born in France, my dad’s mom had a gorgeous accent, was always dressed impeccably, wore a full face of makeup, and I don’t think I ever saw her feet in anything but heels or heeled espadrilles–even when she mowed the lawn. We would often go to her house on Sunday after church, and she would have her dining table set as if she was expecting royalty. A lacey tablecloth was the backdrop for place settings of china, glass water goblets, and a framed Mona Lisa smiling down on us from the wallpapered wall. A chilled glass salad plate would be on top of the stack of plates for each place setting, followed by the hors d’oeuvres plate, with the largest dinner plate at the bottom. At eight years old, I would be stuffed after just the salad, but then came the hors d’oeuvres of hearts of palm and homemade mayonnaise, crackers and pâté, and shrimp cocktail complete with homemade tartar sauce and slices of lemon. I would be overwhelmed that there was still the plat principal and also dessert. “Dessert fills in ze cracks,” Grandma would say as my stomach protested that there were no such cracks left. I still claim this as my excuse to make room for something sweet at the end of a meal, her voice in the back of my mind. She expected us to come hungry. We arrived expecting to be blown away by her gourmet cooking–and to be leaving with our belts one notch bigger.   

Friend, do you know that Jesus is waiting expectantly for us to come to him hungry for his presence? If we only make the time to spend with him, he is exactly what our heart and soul have searched and longed for, and will satisfy our deepest yearnings. None of us have linear life paths, yet his hand has been on us all along. He has never stopped pursuing our hearts. For those of us who may feel like the prodigal from Luke 15, the father saw his son “while he was still a long way off” (Luke 15:20 NIV). I imagine that every day since his son left home, the father checked, hoping to see his son returning home at last. As soon as he saw his son, he ran out to meet him, welcoming him home with a bear hug. Then he threw his finest robe over his son, who probably still reeked of filth. Isn’t it incredible to know that God doesn’t flinch at our sin or our past? He welcomes us, covering us with a robe of righteousness (Isaiah 61:10).  He puts a gold ring on our finger in the form of his Spirit, sealing us as his own (2 Cor 1:22). Then, the father had a feast prepared in celebration of his son’s return (Luke 15:23). It is clear that our heavenly father can’t wait to embrace us, his children, if we would only return to him in humility. Sometimes we don’t fully grasp the depth of God’s grace, redemption, or restoration until we’ve tried to go off on our own. In God’s mercy, we discover that the world only offers us pig food in contrast to the feast we could have in daily walking with Jesus. 

While God’s word is rich, deep, and layered, I’m learning even now the intimacy, power, and wonder of prayer. There is beauty in laying out my anxious thoughts, my requests, my failures, and humbling myself before the Lord, as he returns to me in exchange, peace, love, and joy. In order to make my time with him more productive, I’ve found that by intentionally setting up a space to have quiet time is important–setting my table for Jesus, so to speak. By carving out both a time and a place with little distraction, daily reading and prayer can fill up our soul and spirit like no physical meal ever could. Sit at a desk or a table where our Bibles, journals, and favorite writing pens can spread out. Write out our prayers so that we’ll be less prone to wandering thoughts or nagging to-do’s. Journal as we read the Scriptures, and anything the Spirit illuminates, let’s write it down. Once that journal has been filled, we’ll have a record of what the Spirit has been teaching us, as well as a log of answered prayers. These journals become a timeline of our faith journey–a kind of menu of what the Lord had prepared for us during that time. And through it all, his grace will fill in “ze cracks.”