A Reflection on “The Table” from Psalms 23

Photo by Nancy Center Photography

I was 6 years old when I learned to memorize Psalms 23 the whole way through with my little brother. Together we stumbled through the King James version of that beloved psalm until we could say it from memory without mixing up any of the verses.

When we got to verse five, we would triumphantly say the words, "Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over."

That was my favorite part. It's goodness layered on goodness.

There's a beautiful table before me, there's a divine anointing that touches my head, and my cup spills over because there's more goodness than I can even contain.

But this verse isn't all rainbows and sunshine. Not even halfway through the verse, we see the goodness is hemmed by dark shadows. The verse doesn't say the table is set before us out in the sunshine while everything is going well, nope, it says the table is prepared in the presence of our enemies. The table is set in the midst of chaos. The table is prepared where the shadows are present, where your fears lurk, where your past mistakes and old behaviors wait to sabotage you, while condescending voices descend, while you don't know what's next, and where others may assume the worst things about you. That's where the table is set. Right in the middle of darkness.

It's so easy to look at anyone else and believe they've arrived. You see the woman writing a book. You see them happy and in love. You see her getting pregnant. You see someone graduating with their degree. You see them buying a house. You see them traveling to another country. You see them starting a business. Oh the goodness that must be on their tables, right? Right. They have a table of goodness in front of them. And it's no more goodness than the goodness that's on your own table, right in front of you, right now.

Three years ago I started writing a weekly Win Wednesday email. I'd already been a single mom for more than three years. I’d moved over 22 times and I still didn't know where I belonged. I was in an exciting season of building a business with my cousin and yet I struggled with grief and loneliness. I wondered if I would ever find true love.

One night as I sat in the dark on the cheap linoleum floor of our city loft built in the 80s, I had a vision of a globe of light in front of me with a table in it. The table held these tangible elements of joy and peace and satisfaction and I didn't have to wait to partake of the goodness. It was for that moment, right then. I saw this table was available to everyone I knew, but some people had their backs turned to it, greedy and argumentative and jealous. At the table, there was no lack, but it was situated right in the presence of lack.

All of the goodness is already yours, come as you are. At the table, all of you is welcome. The table isn't spread after you fix yourself, it's already prepared for you. If you relax and open your heart just a little, you'll see it here. You are welcome here. Shame, lack, rage, jealousy, past mistakes, ill-intentioned motives, gossiping people... yes, they are here too. They are still present in the shadows around the table. You are free to eat in their presence. The table is here for you. Sit up and eat. The goodness is yours.

It’s really not the big wins that matter in life. It's the way we view our smallest wins that matters the most. It's the way we see the present goodness. There is already goodness that's on your table, for today. There is an anointing on your head of new mercies. The power of love is working mightily within you to transform you from glory to glory.

It gets even better, friend. The goodness doesn’t stop today. There’s no shortage of it. A crescendo rises in the final verse of Psalm 23 as it declares, surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life... that means the table will be set again for you tomorrow, and again the next day, and again the next... With each dawn, the table is set anew, and your name is called again.

Every day the table is freshly set and your name is called. New mercies rise with every new sunrise. This is the journey of becoming whole, a journey that each of us are invited to each day.

May your cup overflow. May you live your life like you’re loved, because you are so incredibly loved.