Do you ever feel like you don’t fit in? Like you haven’t quite found your place yet? Honest confession here. I feel that way a lot. In fact, if I’m not with my family or in a one-on-one or two-on-two type setting, you’ll probably find me standing around awkwardly, looking uncomfortable and out of place, which is exactly how I’m most likely feeling. I don’t know why this is exactly. Except that I hate small talk and superficial conversations, cliché’s tossed out casually and immediately forgotten. I want to dive right in to the hard things, the things that matter. Let’s talk about something real.

I long for … desperately … a community of close, kindred spirit friends who really want to know each other, who are not afraid to go deeper. Aren’t we all – on some level - looking for that safe space where we feel seen and known and wanted? 

I believe to sit at the dinner table with Jesus would feel like the very essence of belonging. 

One of my favorite diversions lately is watching Family Dinner, a new show on the Magnolia Network where the host travels the country sharing meals with various families. There’s something very inspiring and heartwarming and back-to-our-roots about several generations cooking together in the kitchen – usually preparing old family recipes with their own homegrown ingredients – and then gathering around the big farm table with their favorite people. Laughter and easy conversation abounds and it’s obvious they truly enjoy each other. It’s the perfect picture of belonging. The thought always going through my mind is this right here is a glimpse of heaven.

Because heaven is about belonging. It’s about being accepted and seen and known and loved like you’ve never been loved before. 

Ever notice how Jesus was always sharing meals with people? Usually with the scoundrels and the sinners. Not so much with the perfectly put together religious people. He chose to spend a good deal of his time here gathered around the table with random nobodies … but of course He didn’t see them as nobodies. He looked beyond the surface, way down deep where the fears and hurts and resentments reside. His eyes met theirs and the simple act of breaking bread became a sacred communion between God and humanity.  

Brennan Manning in The Ragamuffin Gospel says “in modern times it is scarcely possible to appreciate the scandal Jesus caused by His table fellowship with sinners”. In that culture, sharing a meal was synonymous with acceptance, forgiveness and equality. An invitation to dinner was an invitation to shared life. And here He was, sharing His table and His life with the unlovelies. 

I imagine there was a lot of laughter and easy conversation at His table. After all, He invented joy and laughter. But we also know He didn’t shy away from the hard topics. He wasn’t afraid to go deep. I believe to sit at the dinner table with Jesus would feel like the very essence of belonging. 

My sin and shame makes me unfit to share a dinner table with the Light of the World. But He shined that light into the dark and carried all that sin and shame to the cross and left it there. He entered into our world so we could enter into His. He felt our emotions, grieved our losses and celebrated our victories. Still does. He sat with, laughed with, walked with and deeply loved every broken, wounded, messed up sinner he ever laid eyes on. 

And they were all invited to His table. 

This Easter weekend I plan to gather around the table with my family, share a meal and the bread and wine of communion as both a testimony to what Christ has done and a picture of what is still to come. In Him I’ve found my belonging place. These earthly glimpses are merely dimly lit images of the table time I’m looking forward to enjoying with Him in our forever home.

At His table every hurt is healed, every tear is wiped away and all things become new. Every longing to feel seen and known and loved is fulfilled in His glorious presence. 

And I have great news! There’s an invitation to His table with your name on it. 

He’s saving a seat for you. 

Happy Resurrection Day!

xo, Jana