Honor Your Space: When God Speaks.

When I think of how my soul works, I picture a twelve-foot long farmhouse style table (obviously, because Johanna Gaines is my spirit animal). The table is messy, because life is messy. Around the table sit my dearest people, the people on my heart, all having conversations with me. On the table, tablets and newspapers scream headlines, journals full of prayers, a laptop with my website pulled up, textbooks open to underlined pages, a worn Bible with notes in the margins. My table is full. In an instant, my crowded and overwhelmed table is cleared. The conversations halt and the books are moved. In the silence, God writes on my table.

The words aren’t elaborate, complicated, or even long. In fact, that’s how this whole series, “Honor Your Space,” began.

I used to wait for God to speak to me, for Him to clear my cluttered table and just show up with answers.

I don’t do that any more.

My space, my table, is a bit less cluttered nowadays. Not because life is less busy, but because I’ve learned to manage the number of things I let take up space at my table. Instead of a constantly running stream of information, I curtail the overload.

I used to treat God like a distant relative, there in name and wisdom, but not permanently seated at the table. And that’s not how it should be.

Your priorities lie in what (and who) takes up space at your table.

For me, this has meant playing musical chairs and rearranging my table space. It’s also meant not waiting around for God to show up and clear everything off, but to give Him a designated seat, smack-dab in the middle, with table space reserved only for Him.

Dear, sweet, friend,

I get it. Every day, we are bombarded with information, heartbreak, excitement, decisions, worries, and wisdom. And it’s all there, instantly. With a touch of a button or a flick of your thumb, information is at your fingertips, waiting to be heard, to be answered. Our poor hearts can only take so much before our tables resemble a heap of things, layered on top of each other.

But know this: you’re not alone. You don’t have to sort through these things by yourself, you don’t have to walk through the heartbreak and pain and even excitement alone.

He gives rest, He brings peace, and He can turn your overwhelmed heart into a joyous one. Because He loves us, all of us, and our overwhelmed hearts. He loves us so much, He has left a place for us, a designated seat, at His table. It’s there, with your name on it. No one is too broken for God’s table.

And more than anything, He wants a seat at your table.