Wednesday, November 25, 2015

carried to the table

Earlier today I was working on a project when I heard the cries of my little baby cousin
She was upset because she had broken her toy
It was something small indeed but she was sad and tired
Tears dripping down her face
Her little heart had all she could handle
So I picked her up and carried her in my arms
Cuddling her precious little head and rocking her so she could find rest
I carried her to the table...

Broken girl, ashamed, and angry
Feeling like I wasn't good enough
Discouraged by my failures
Afraid I couldn't measure up
Time after time the Savior has gathered me in his arms
And carried me to His table

He does it for us time and time again
He is faithful to deliver our sins
And to cleanse us from all unrighteousness

We do not deserve to be brought to the banquet feast of blessings
Yet Christ seeks us out
He searches every hospital, every empty church pew, every bar, every lonely college dorm
And then He runs to us
And says "She is mine"

He says come and feast with me
Let me provide you with your daily bread
Let me give you my sweet honey of kindness
Let me give you more than milk for babies
Let me give you scriptural meat
Let your cup overflow as you dine with me
And taste and see that the Lord is good

He invites us to His wedding feast
With music and dancing
He tells us to have joy
It doesn't mean there isn't suffering
But it does mean we have hope
Because we know the master

So we will eat, drink, and be merry
Not as gluttons, selfish pigs, or prostitues
But as humble and worthy daughters of the Kingdom
Who know their Father's house
And are to celebrate the King and His victory.

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