If my kitchen table could talk, oh what it could share. The top is made of pine, a softer wood that hides nothing. Every slash mark written on paper during a game is imprinted atop the table. Every tap of the last domino held in Mexican dominoes is reflected in the dents. The worn green bench with matching two chairs came from another table set my mother had dating back to before I was born. Aside the table sits my ‘youth’ chair, which I sat in until I was a teenager.
Countless days we sat in these old chairs, prayers always preceding a meal. Laughter raising the roof. Yes, there were a few arguments at this table but mostly laughter and joy. Tears were shed when we discussed hard times in our lives or the lives of someone we loved.
I stare transfixed at the table now as the ebb and flow of life is moving around me in fast-forward through years past. Gifts wrapped, clothes folded, Bible studied, home work done.
Children growing.
Years passing.
The day in- day out of life. The things we overlook waiting for some grand event or major holiday. Those little uneventful times are our life. And my kitchen table has seen it all. Have I? Have I savored these moments or rushed through them?
What about you?
How do you savor the little moments in time?
“In the whole of world history there is always only one really significant hour—the present.” Dietrich Bonheoffer
