The Table

August 28, 2022

“The patterns need to change,” I kept telling myself, “Something has to give.”

I go through seasons of my life that are good, and I think that I have finally made it. However, that happiness never lasts and I am back to feeling lonely, abandoned, and pressured by life, work, and the people that I say care about me the most. I think, “Surely, I am not the problem in all of this mess?”

Truth speaks and it says, “The dangers from my past life are gone, but the destructive patterns still linger.” Therefore, something needed to change.

Well, something did finally give.  Unfortunately, it was while I was at work and my boss was the object of my aggression. Hence the reason I was being forced to sit on a therapist’s couch, staring at all the opulent furniture, feeling the depravity of it all and wondering what light this therapist could possibly shed on this whole horrible situation.

The voice in my head was speaking loudly and saying, “Fix me lady, I am ready.”

I became indignant as I looked around the room. I was mad at my boss, my past, my parents, my world, and anyone that I could remember. As I sat waiting, I could feel myself becoming angrier and I thought to myself, “I am a Christian, I love Jesus, why am I here? This was my boss’s fault, not mine.”

As I sat waiting, I whispered a quiet prayer, “God, where are you in all of this?”

And then I saw it, the table.

Looking down at the coffee table strategically placed in the room, I smiled as I remembered her words, “I am the table, he better bring a chair.”

I closed my eyes and could see her sitting there with her tiny body poised as she tossed back her hair, proudly boasting.

We were discussing men and as usual, we had very different views on the matter.

Boldness never escaped Madison, she knew she was beautiful, and she spoke of it often. Madison was the epitome of vibrancy, pretty much happiness in a bottle waiting to be uncorked by the next person who wanted to just get a taste of her spunk and tenacity.

With her brilliant smile, pearly white teeth, and long auburn hair, she was the essence of God’s beauty and handiwork. She quickly became the center of attention in any room.

However, what we didn’t talk about, what was never spoken, mentioned, or discussed, was that Madi was dying inside. She was full of painful wounds from a childhood as she experienced a mother who could never love herself and a father who never loved anyone.

Madison got her self-esteem from social media.  Her followers liked every bikini-clad shot and twirl of her little backside. Shallow, vain, and empty, she cried out desperately for the love she so longed for from anyone who wanted to follow her and tell her how beautiful and great she was.

She loved attention and lavished her time on her appearance because that is what got her the attention she craved and what filled her emptiness, if only for brief moments. That, and the coke she snorted up her nose, and the weed she smoked incessantly.

Madi, in some ways was me. Trying so hard to please, to fit in, to be loved, but yet feeling so empty.  She desired the attention and craved that love that only God can bring.

He, my friend is the true table.

During my time of healing, I began to see where my strategies in life had failed and much like Madi, my spans of happiness were short lived because I had come to believe that I was the table.

Madison’s life was cut short at the very tender age of twenty-one. Our family misses her every day. Her death was not in vain and in some ways, it is bringing clarity to us all. That is what Madi would want. I choose to believe that Madi loved Jesus and even in her pain, and her dysfunction, she found a way back to Jesus.

Madi, I pray that this story and our shared experience helps to bring healing to many and points people to Jesus, the only one who can fill. I know you are in Heaven and that I will see you again one day. I know you are finally at peace, being held, loved, and adored by the only one who can fill that empty void. The one with your wounds, my wounds, and His scars on His hands. I pray He is holding you now because He truly is the table.

Save me a seat.