Growing up, all of our meals were shared around our kitchen table. We didn’t have a dining room, fancy china, or crystal glasses, but my mom always had a tablecloth on our table. It was most likely to absorb any spills which occurred from having three active girls. It also protected the table from the “I’m not eating this” and the “You will sit here until you do or it will be your breakfast” arguments. Part of the cleaning up process from dinner was to take the ‘crumb-duster’ to the table. It was a hand-held piece of plastic that had a small rotating brush you would run along the table and it would pick up crumbs with each stroke across the tablecloth. Then, you would ‘pop the top’ and empty the crumbs into the garbage. This little device made cleaning up much easier and whoever had the pleasure of running it across the table understood the moment (because it usually meant we weren’t stuck drying dishes). Most of the time, we couldn’t see the crumbs with our eyes but yet, the ‘crumb-duster’ would pick up a bunch of them.
Yesterday morning, as I brushed crumbs from my counter to my hand and placed them in the garbage, I thought about the table I have been inviting you to pull up a chair and sit at. In recent posts, I talked about building a table in which all are welcome. My friend Alyssa and I launched a YouTube channel, Table Talk: Gather, Guide & Go where we are doing this. However, I have been thinking about the crumbs; the crumbs left on the table, or the crumbs that fall to the floor.
What about the person who may be carrying around so much guilt, shame, addiction, depression, etc. they only feel worthy enough for the crumbs left behind and not to enjoy the meal at the table?
When I think of crumbs, I think of the first layer of frosting applied to a cake, it is a crumb coat. On this layer, you take a small amount of frosting and catch all the crumbs on the cake to be included as the base layer. The crumbs are part of the cake, the part that is closest to the cake, yet, they are not discernible to the naked eye. It becomes part of the beautiful masterpiece, but most will never see it. Does the person who feel like they are a crumb know they are an essential part of cake? Do they know that although they may not see or feel it, they only need a little bit of frosting that is faith to press and stick to the cake which is Jesus?
If this past year of quarantine has taught me anything, it has taught me that it doesn’t matter if my faith is as small as a crumb or if I am the frosting for someone who needs help being a part of the cake, together we are essential parts of the masterpiece which is God’s kingdom. His love for us is the frosting we need to stick together and make a beautiful cake. I pray you remember you are loved and part of His masterpiece and if you need help sticking to cake, please reach out to your local church or feel free to reach out to me, I don’t want any crumbs left off the cake.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. ~ Psalms 139:14