After watching the last of a video
series at church about the family and it's importance, my Pastor
asked us all a question. What was supper like in our homes as
children growing up? The supper table sets the tone for the knitting
together of a family in it's relationships. Several people shared
their experiences, most were pleasant. I debated on whether to speak
up at all on this issue. I did not.
As a child, and for most of my adult
life, coming to the supper table was an experience that was deeply
dreaded each evening. Indeed, I remember staying outside, playing as
long as I could to put off coming inside to sit at the table when
dinner was announced. As we sat to eat, the entire meal was fraught
with verbal and emotional abuse and sometimes physical attack. My
father was a critical alcoholic and did not hesitate to strike out at
everyone during the evening meal. It was a nightmare. The best
strategy was to just keep quite, and perhaps one would be overlooked
for any forthcoming abuse.
In the scriptures God speaks of sitting
at His table and supping with Him. Ah yes,...the great banquet
spoken of in Isaiah 25:6. Christ spoke of inviting Him in to dine
with us in Revelation 3:20. This is something to look forward to for
all who follow Him. In 1988 I was working temporarily in Washington
state and was staying with my parents while my husband Randy who was
a lineman, was working on a job out of town on the east coast. We
planned to return to his home state of Florida when his job was
finished. During a phone conversation two weeks before his job
ended, and in the course of our conversation he said to me,
“Marguerite, I'm tired of living my life the way I've been living
it. I want to know Christ in my life again. Can you help me?” I
was ecstatic! I had been praying for my husband to return to Christ
for some time. In his youth, Randy had experienced the touch of God
to become a minister of the gospel but did not follow through with
God's plan. God had turned his heart toward Him once again. In two
more weeks my husband would be home with a heart following God again.
I could not wait!
In the several nights that followed, I
began to experience visitations from God. He was speaking to me
nightly for long periods of time as I slept. They were lengthy
conversations of some sort, yet I could not remember what had been
said when I awoke the next morning. It baffled me. I knew enough
though to know that God was “downloading” something of importance
to me that would be needed in the future. What struck me the most
was the feeling that I had of having sat down at a great banquet all
night with the Lord,....His words were feeding me as He spoke them.
In the mornings after I awoke, I felt something that I cannot even
begin to describe. It was the deepest, most profound satisfaction of
spirit and soul I've ever known. There was an ongoing, multi-night
banquet feeding my spirit and my soul for several days. The impact
of the nightly visitations prompted me to share the experiences with
my mother.
Two weeks later I was notified that my
husband was dead. An accident on his job site took his life. It had
happened on the last day of his job, one hour before quitting time.
He was 34 years old. I was 32.
Our son Randall was four years old.
You see, Randy had promised me that he would not work on jobs out of
town anymore that kept us apart as a family.
As I entered the funeral home's office
to make arrangements I was asked if I wanted see him to make sure
everything was in order for the evening viewing to come. I had
dreaded this,...viewing his body without his spirit present, and
facing death for the first time in my life,..looking upon his face,
to see the death of someone I loved. I entered the room where his
body was. A well meaning funeral employee had applied the
mortician's make up to Randy's face and it was too pale. I noticed
it immediately as Randy was a deeply tanned individual. His blonde
hair and blue eyes belied his American Indian heritage which caused
him to tan easily. I pointed this out to the mortician and directed
the him for several minutes on re-applying a darker shade of makeup
so Randy's face had a more natural appearance. I was guided by a
supernatural calmness and peace that I had never experienced before.
There was no falling apart emotionally, no fear for the twenty
minutes of time that it took to do so.
I stepped outside of the funeral home
afterwards to take in all that I had just walked through. The
Florida sun was shining so brightly that afternoon. In an instant,
as I stepped into the sunshine, the content of God's nightly
visitations, for the first time, flooded my mind......and I
remembered. The insight and understanding came to me that I had been
through several “rehearsals” in my sleep from the Holy Spirit to
prepare me for the 20 minutes that had just occurred. God had already
walked me through that particular twenty minutes with the funeral
home employee during the nights as I had slept the two weeks before.
God had been to preparing me beforehand to be able face my husband's
death. In retrospect, I would not have had the emotional strength
and courage needed to walk into the room where my husband's body was,
much less direct the mortician on the re-application of the facial
makeup that needed to be changed.
Those banquets of God that I sat at in
preparation for Randy's passing, were amazing and beyond any
description I can give here. I will never forget the satisfaction I
felt that superseded any earthly one I've ever ever known. For a
short period of time I've briefly dined at God's banquet table, and
not a table of dread. When my Pastor asked the question that he did,
I reflected on these memories. Does the abuse I experienced as a
child and young adult at my family's supper table, the table of
dread, hinder me in accepting everyday invitations to God's
supper table of love in communion with Him?
I love reading your blog and seeing what God has done and is doing in your life. Thank you for sharing your heart.
ReplyDeleteYou have blessed me by taking time to read it. I hope it continues to touch your life also.
Delete