The Kitchen Table

yesterday, left behind,

with a table filled with yesterday,

thirteen orange juice bottles,

standing, side by side

filled with aging water

for the fish aquarium,

repotted geranium plants,

pruned from winter growth,

beginning to blossom,

a book and photograph,

a gift from a friend,

visited yesterday,

a plastic bag, filled with

an assortment of bandages

and supplies, a container

of Vaseline to cover

a recent skin biopsy,

a library book

to be returned,

3-hole punch paper,

in a wrapper, on its way

from storage to the office,

a home-made wristband

made from a sock

to hold gauze on the wrist,

but it didn’t work,

two more pieces

of the cut sock,

waiting to find its purpose,

an empty box of

Playtex Living Gloves,

extra long gloves, used

to wash dishes by hand

without getting the

wrist wet

one look at the table

with clutter overtaking,

stirred up within her

feelings of

overload

overtired

overstressed

overworked

rising up to

overflowing and

overwhelmed

needing rest from

a tiring day before,

she went to lie down

with thoughts and feelings

swirling through her

heart, mind, and soul,

filling her head

and all extra spaces,

with no place

to just be

free

and then,

she sensed

the Lord

speak to her,

Will you clear off

your table, please,

making room

for Me

and

will you share

a cup of tea

with Me?

she smiled at the idea,

went out to the kitchen

and looked again

at the mess,

scribbled a poem,

tired as she was,

and began to

prepare a cup of tea,

cleaned off a small

place on the table

and began to feel

real again,

in the present moment

of grace,

to spend time

with the Lord,

in spirit,

face-to-face,

with nothing

more important,

to distract her,

for those few

sacred moments

of time

together,

sitting at her

kitchen table,

in sweet communion,

with her Lord.

Precious Linda, c.2013