The tablecloths, runners and centerpieces have chronicled the changing of the seasons. Around these tables kids, grandkids, and their friends have made valentines, colored Easter eggs, strung Christmas garlands of cranberries and popcorn, and played dominos and Scrabble.
Here at these tables we have discussed our faith and our doubts, cried and prayed over lost loved ones and broken relationships. We have laughed our heads off and been silent over disagreements. Through the seasons and the years these old tables have been a magnet for feeding both the body and the soul.
Soon these tables will draw us all home again to give thanks for the years and miles and to remind each other that there will always be a great table, where our place will be set and our special chair will be waiting. Yes, there will always be a place at the table at the end of our journey home.