The endless blue sky stretched above us. “Let’s sit on the patio for lunch,” my husband said as we settled in at our favorite pizza place. I chose the seat looking outward, over the low fence and ahead into the world. I couldn’t see anyone but my husband next to me.
A few minutes later he leaned in and whispered, “The table of women behind us is reading your book.” I slapped his hand playfully and said, “No, they’re not.” He repeated, “Really, they’re reading your book.” (This isn’t the first time I’ve mistaken truth for teasing. I did the same thing when he proposed. But that’s another story.)
I tried to casually glance over my shoulder without looking like a stalker and sure enough, a table of about twelve women had my book spread out in all directions. I could barely make out underlines and highlights, hear a little of the laughter and intensity in their conversation over what God was speaking to their hearts.
I turned back and sat still, stunned. Soon a grin spread across my face and happy tears filled my eyes.
Because this is how we go through life, isn’t it?
We try to be obedient. We take our place at the table with Jesus. We love Him.
But we don’t always get to really see the results. We don’t always know the impact.
And as I sat there, it seemed He whispered to my heart, “Heaven is when you get to turn the chair completely around.”
Right now I type away at a keyboard a lot of the time. It’s good and I’m so grateful. It’s just that sometimes it’s hard too. Sometimes it’s lonely. Sometimes I wonder if it matters.
I imagine the same is true for you in whatever you’re called to do–being a mama, running a company, volunteering, you know what that thing is for you.
So I want to lean in and whisper to you, “Dear Sister, trust that there is more than you can see. Trust that what you’re doing makes a difference. Trust that one day you will get to turn the chair around and see fully.”
Until then, God gives us little glimpses. Just like my husband did as he whispered a quiet word or two about what those women were doing that I couldn’t see. We smiled together, the two of us. And I think God smiles with us as we sit with Him at the table of life too.
Eventually our pizza was gone and it was the moment. Time to turn the chair around completely and see. And it was the most beautiful sight. Women of all ages and races. The body of Christ.
I fidgeted. I began to sweat. And just before they thought about calling security, I finally stammered out an awkward, “Um, hey, I wrote that book.” Then before I knew it I had hugs thrown around my neck.
It felt like a welcome home.
And I tasted for a moment what it would like to really be Home. Sweet Joy.
Seeing the unseen. Knowing and touching and feeling what it means to be a small part of the very big work God is doing in the world.
You may not be able to see the difference that you’re making, the lives you’re touching, the joy you’re bringing. But it’s there. It’s real. It’s truer than true. So sit at that table with Jesus. Do what He says. Give Him your life and hold nothing back. Let Him give you glimpses of glory.
Then one day He’ll whisper the words, “It’s time to turn the chair around, Daughter.” And you’ll see, really see.
Then we’ll rejoice fully in what He’s done together.
— Holley Gerth, author of You’re Already AmazingLeave a Comment