The Feast
The last several months have been a time of refining by fire for me. Whether I put myself there, or whether God had plans for me I could not have forseen, the results have been the same. But bit by bit, minute by minute, and hour by hour, I am beginning to find the good there is for me to do.
When I was a child, my father preached for country churches who could not afford to pay for a full-time preacher. One of the fringe benefits of that was that he had to travel some distance, and so the various church members always cooked Sunday dinner and had the preacher stay the afternoon. The preacher and whichever of the kids was lucky enough to miss out on the milking and travel with Dad. For those of you who were fortunate enough to grow up with that kind of country cooking, you know that meant quite a meal - something like fried chicken with mashed potatoes and the best gravy in the world, hot biscuits, lima beans, corn and tomatoes all fresh from the garden. Maybe, if you were lucky enough, there would be fried okra, also. And, of course, pie, cake or cobbler for dessert. A literal feast, no matter how you measured it.
Those country churches often sang an invitation song that folks in those traditions could identify with:
"All things are ready - come to the feast. Come, for the table now is spread. Ye famishing, ye weary come. And thou shalt be richly fed."
"Hear the invitation. COME WHOSOEVER WILL. Praise God for full salvation. For WHOSOEVER WILL."
The feast was there - waiting all the time. I just was not asking the right questions.
Since I have started crawling out of my pit of self-pity and looking around, God has put so many opportunities to serve others in my life.
The very most pressing thing on my heart is to find those others who are hurting - who are hungry and don't know where the food is - and to tell them, "Come to the feast!" 04-13-06
When I was a child, my father preached for country churches who could not afford to pay for a full-time preacher. One of the fringe benefits of that was that he had to travel some distance, and so the various church members always cooked Sunday dinner and had the preacher stay the afternoon. The preacher and whichever of the kids was lucky enough to miss out on the milking and travel with Dad. For those of you who were fortunate enough to grow up with that kind of country cooking, you know that meant quite a meal - something like fried chicken with mashed potatoes and the best gravy in the world, hot biscuits, lima beans, corn and tomatoes all fresh from the garden. Maybe, if you were lucky enough, there would be fried okra, also. And, of course, pie, cake or cobbler for dessert. A literal feast, no matter how you measured it.
Those country churches often sang an invitation song that folks in those traditions could identify with:
"All things are ready - come to the feast. Come, for the table now is spread. Ye famishing, ye weary come. And thou shalt be richly fed."
"Hear the invitation. COME WHOSOEVER WILL. Praise God for full salvation. For WHOSOEVER WILL."
The feast was there - waiting all the time. I just was not asking the right questions.
Since I have started crawling out of my pit of self-pity and looking around, God has put so many opportunities to serve others in my life.
The very most pressing thing on my heart is to find those others who are hurting - who are hungry and don't know where the food is - and to tell them, "Come to the feast!" 04-13-06
posted by pawatson at
5/03/2006 08:59:00 PM
