Me and Mephibosheth

Just a little while after the sun had set, I heard a little tap-tap at the door, which was exactly the sound I had been waiting for since 6:00pm. They were here! I stirred the pot on the stove real quick to make sure it was still hot. Everything was ready except the electricity was out, but who needs electricity to have fun anyway? 

I skipped to the door to welcome them in. It's not easy to transport a family of nine with only a moto, but Rebeca did it. She had a baby strapped to her back and three little ones on the moto with her (one in front and two hanging on for dear life behind), and she made the oldest four walk. 

My house was soon completely full of kiddos. The four oldest girls colored pictures of Noah's ark and the rainbow using the floor as a hard surface and a flashlight as a lamp. The younger four bopped balloons around the living room and laughed hysterically every time Rebeca bounced the balloon off the innocent baby's head. Poor little baby had no idea what was going on until we gave her a balloon of her own, which she hugged, tried to eat, and which instantly brought a smile to her face. 

We had a simple meal of lentils and rice with salade crudité (a fresh mix of cucumbers, onions, and tomatoes with ranch dressing) and koolaid that the kids loved. They ate every bit and went back for seconds until my pot was empty and then they worried about what I was going to eat tomorrow. "Don't worry," I assured them. "This meal was for you, and I will make something else for me tomorrow." 

After the meal, I broke out the ukelele and we had a spontaneous moment of praise and dancing because the kids recognized and sang along to some familiar children's worship songs in French. 

They found my French Children's Bible on the shelf and picked out a story or two to read, and before I knew it, I had read the four little ones to sleep on the carpet. We didn't even get to eat the surprise jello I made for dessert, but I wrapped it in foil to send home for a more awake moment. So with one last prayer all together, we wrapped up the night by thanking God for sweet moments shared together. 

Every time after my visitors leave, I wash the dishes and pick rice out of the carpet and thank God for the gift of hospitality. It makes me thank him every time for his hospitality towards me, except his hospitality isn't lentils and rice while sitting on the floor with no electricity. His hospitality is more like David and Mephibosheth - a king offering a place at the banquet table to a man crippled in both feet. The Bible even says David gave Mephibosheth a place at the table like one of his very own sons.

God, the most high and holy king, giving us, the lame and lowly unworthies, a place at his table as one of his very own sons or daughters. What hospitality. What grace. What amazing love. 

I wash the dishes and thank God for the house he has given me, the way I can use it to serve him, and for the people that he brings inside of it. I thank him for how he has shown me hospitality and welcomed me into his heavenly home, given me a place at his table, nourished my soul, shared his powerful word with me, and even put me to peaceful sleep in his presence. I pray that I can be a picture of his hospitality to others, even with the seemingly small gift of rice and lentils I have to offer. 

For a banquet table awaits us, and our master host welcomes us to come, take our honored places as his sons and daughters, and feast and be satisfied on his provision, presence, and love.