A Place at the Table, feast day 3

Judging from the complete lack of response to my last post, I am guessing that even those of you who follow this blog turned away in disgust at how quickly it digressed.  So, I suppose that it is now my responsibility to win you back with my wit and charm and deep reflection.  Here goes . . .

I moved away from home eleven years ago.  Some times when people make a move away from home, they do it gradually so that they can continue to get home if and when they get a little homesick.  That wasn't me.  I moved from central Illinois to an island off the coast of Massachusetts and have never really been back.  Life circumstances find me in Lubbock for the foreseeable future, so it's doubtful that we'll call the flatlands of central Illinois "home" any time soon.

But family is very important to me.  That wasn't always the case.  Despite growing up in a close extended family (dad has 423 siblings, and we got together with most of them at least once a year when I was growing up), I decided that I wouldn't need family once I grew up.  Now that I'm grown up (relative term, I know), I long for those relational connections.   My dad calls me most every week on Sunday night to check up on me, but a phone call can never replace a face-to-face.  My folks have made the trek to Lubbock a few times, but the rest of the family has yet to make that long haul.  So it's up to the Texas Drakes to drive/fly to central Illinois to keep that relational connection.

The first couple of times we made the trek to Illinois, I wondered if it was really worth it.  If you've ever traveled with kids under 6, you know that two-day drives that involve a hotel stay are rarely much fun.  But then, once we're in Illinois and see how valuable the time is for our girls to have relationships with their cousins, we realize that the inconveniences of a two-day drive are far outweighed by cousins who know one another in a face-to-face sort of way.

Yesterday ended with those relationships being strengthened.  Rather than stop in the hamlet of Elkhart (where my parents live), we continued driving to the little town of Lacon, IL, where my brother and sister-in-law and four nephews live.  It made sense, especially since my parents were up at J's house for Olson's baptism.  It was a feast day for me, which was a good thing.  We found ourselves at Monical's Pizza (not an accident, by the way) in Chillicothe, IL, to feast like it was 1999.  Monical's is already a personal favorite, but when it is a feast day, it tastes that much better.  I absolutely savored every bite.

And I loved the conversation as well.  We talked about faith and church.  We talked about family and illness.  We talked about family.  We laughed.  We argued.  The cousins sat at a different table and ate very little but had the time of their lives.  It was a sacred moment, and the fact that I am in the midst of this fast made me realize it in a powerful way.  I sat around a table with family and Christ-followers ages 16 through 63 and enjoyed good food and good conversation and great community with people that I see once a year, at best.  It was tangibly sacred.

Which got me thinking about the nature of church and the nature of family.  We've created a little family in Lubbock through our interactions with the people of Raintree.  Do I value those sacred moments as much as I valued this one?  Truth be told, despite the love I have for my family, I missed my Lubbock family on Sunday night.  I missed feasting with them and telling stories about how much we are learning together through this fast.  That tells me that the community that we are forming is becoming family and is transforming me into the image of Christ.

And part of that transformation is in realizing what it is that God has placed before us.  If you are blessed to live close to your family, don't take that for granted.  Tell your parents "thanks" when they come to your kids sporting events.  Let that sibling know that you love them and are grateful to be doing life with them.  Spend as much time as you can with your family.

And for those of us who don't have the blessing of family close, look at who have become your family.  Praise God for them and cherish them like you would your own brothers and sisters.  Because, if the Scriptures are to be believed, that's exactly what they are.