Sitting at the Table - Devotional

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies” (Psalm 23:5).

Written by: Krista Collins

The 23rd Psalm is so familiar we can almost overlook its powerful impact. Almost everyone knows part, if not all, of this Psalm. It is often quoted at funerals and at times of pain and struggle. It is beautiful and it is peaceful. Let’s allow these words to drip deep into our very being.

I am a girl who loves to meet Jesus with my pen. I sit at my desk with a cup of hot tea and talk to my Father. He always shows up. He always speaks to me. And often in the early morning he will send me a bird to land on the garden fence right outside my window, and my heart simply soars. His peace comes to us in so many different ways. Yet, peace and pain can share a heartbeat.

I faced a hurt that wanted to consume me. Watching anyone suffer and struggle is difficult, and when it is someone you love it can be downright unbearable. I was in the middle of that relentless storm and I found myself doing as David did, encouraging myself. Yet I felt discouraged.

I couldn’t even pick up my pen to write it out. I had to go to my computer and pound the keys. Somehow pounding the keys felt like I was beating something. And pound away on those poor keys I did. I soon realized I was pounding with purpose. I pulled up a seat at the table prepared for me, and it was productive.

I began to question God about how hard this struggle was. I knew God was bigger and held tight to the promises that we belong to Him. But the grip of the enemy felt tighter. God can handle and wants our questions, so He can bring into the light the things of the darkness. Remember, “Light consumes darkness.” The table prepared is the place of exposing the darkness and flooding in the light.

This place of pouring out pain and being deep-down honest with God is the beautiful place of growth. As I spoke to God, He spoke right back. When I spoke of the bone-crushing struggle, I heard Him gently speak to my heart: You are held. You are “persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down but not destroyed” (2 Corinthians 4:9). What a beautiful grace and truth I found.

All that our eyes see is what is directly in front of us. We see the hard of a moment, and if we are not careful it will consume us. The pain, the hard, the ugly, the overwhelming, the sad and the scary. Quickly we can become despondent. Quickly we become angry.

James 1:9 says, “Be slow to anger.” So quickly I must grab that anger and reject it. I have to rest in the peace that surrounds me when all I see and feel is the darkness and the difficult.

The difficult does not negate the goodness of God. There is always more -- always hope, always a new day, always a new mercy to meet us as we wait in trusting hope. This is only a moment -- a season. Breathe deep and slow, and exhale knowing that next breath inhaled is a God-given gift. And God will carry us through until He carries us home.

The way out is always through. He takes us through the valley. Through the Red Sea. Through the fire. We go through and not around. So we must fix our eyes on the through and not the storm. 

I began pounding keys in anger and frustration. I ended tapping keys knowing He made the way through.

So let’s take our seat prepared for us at the table of mercy and grace. Remember, sitting is a place of rest -- the battle does not belong to us. “The battle belongs to the Lord” (2 Chronicles 20:15). We don’t get to say how long the battle will rage on. We only get to say how we will face the battle. Let’s pull up our seat. Rest in what is already prepared for us. We are only passing through.

“We don’t belong to this world” (John 17:16).