Quick good-byes then hurrying home. Time to leave for lunch. Will they wait for us? Will they hold the food? Or will we be left behind?
Drop off my stuff, grab my husband, and off to the van. Hurry, hurry! I’m afraid we’ll be left behind!
Anxiously watching the miles signs passing by, worrying all the way. Hoping that they would wait, hoping this would be a good day. Will they hold the food? Will they wait for a while? Or will they rush in impatiently? Are we worth the wait? Do we matter to the rest? Or will they hurry on to follow some invisible schedule?
Pull in the driveway, rush in the house. Are they eating? No…they’re not….they’re playing, talking, and having fun. No dinner has happened, no worry was needed. I was an invited guest, and they wanted to eat with me.
Reminds me of another banquet, once of much greater importance. One to which each of us has received a personal invite: “And the Spirit and the bride say, “Come!” And let him who hears say, “Come!” And let him who thirsts come. Whoever desires, let him take the water of life freely.” (Rev. 22:17)
This one doesn’t require any rushing, any worry or stress. I don’t have to hurry down the highway or quick race out of the house. I just to to choose ‘yes’, to make that final choice. Will I accept Jesus? Will I live to be at that banquet? Or will my rushing, my busyness, my ‘accomplishing’ this or that interfere with that date. Am I too busy to accept his life long invitation?