The Red Plate Reminder
When my first daughter was in preschool, she came home one afternoon with a pressing question. “Mom, what does Jesus like to eat?”
Distracted by a pile of supper dishes and a screaming baby in the infant swing, I answered pithily, “He probably loves fruit. After all, that’s what He planted in the Garden of Eden.”
Satisfied with my shallow reply, Lizzy nodded her delicate head of blonde curls and ran out the door to join her big brother in the sand box.
I didn’t think about my five-year-old’s odd question again until early the next morning.
After an endless night of pacing the floor with a colicky baby, I followed the aroma of fresh– brewed coffee into the kitchen. I was exhausted and grumbly, overwhelmed with the thought of facing another round of diapers, dishes, and discipline.
The day ahead loomed as cantankerous and colossal as the mountain of dirty laundry that waited for me in the basement, and the realization that my the three little ones that would soon be slipping from bed merely fueled my funk.
I looked around my quiet kitchen and wished for a friend to share my angst.
Then I spotted it: a curious splash of red on the edge of our battered kitchen table. I rubbed my weary eyes, flipped on the light, and marveled at the stirring sight.
Setting elegantly at the head of our old wooden table was a red china plate dotted with an overripe banana, a clump of purple grapes and a shiny green apple.
Next to the humble spread of fruit lay a cheap white paper napkin with a simple misspelled message scribbled across its surface in sloppy crayon letters: Welkum, Jesus.
Unexpectedly, my tired eyes teemed with tears. My wish had been granted. I was not alone.
I slumped into a sticky chair near the crimson plate and added an echo to the invitation my little girl had ushered: Please, Jesus, would you help me through this day?
In the hours that followed, the laundry pile didn’t miraculously shrink, nor did my fussy baby suddenly adopt an amicable attitude, but something inside of me shifted. The red plate perched at the table’s edge reminded me that I have a Friend who understands.
It’s been nearly a decade since my curly-haired girl invited Jesus to dine at our table, but I’ve never recovered from that red plate reminder. Nor do I ever want to.
Just this morning, I greeted my Savior with these simple words of gratitude as I crawled out bed and tripped in the dark on a laundry basket begging to be emptied: Welcome Jesus. I’m so glad you’re here. I’d never make it through this day without you.
A dozen years of dirty diapers, dirty dishes, and dirty floors has taught me to delight in a Savior who dwells in the midst of my mess.
When I am weary, He shares His strength. When I’m discouraged, He offers hope.
And when I’m frazzled, He gives peace.
No matter where I am–on my knees mopping up mud prints or on my knees in prayer, Jesus is always there.
No matter where I am–on my knees mopping up mud prints or on my knees in prayer, Jesus is always there.
These days, our kitchen scarcely contains enough space for our growing family of seven.
But whenever we cram all fourteen legs beneath that old wooden table and settle in for the mayhem we call meal time, I serve our food on bright red plates: just a simple reminder of the welcomed Guest who lives among us.
The Overflow:
All right then, the Lord himself will give
you the sign. Look! The virgin will conceive
a child! She will give birth to a son and
will call him Immanuel
(which means ‘God is with us’).
you the sign. Look! The virgin will conceive
a child! She will give birth to a son and
will call him Immanuel
(which means ‘God is with us’).
-Isaiah 7:14
*This story first appeared in MOPS International’s devotional, Always There. If you need a fresh dose of encouragement, grab a copy of this sweet book today and let these tell-it-like-it-is tales from other moms in the trenches remind you that you’re never alone.
Sharing God-Bumps once again in community with Jennifer at Getting Down With Jesus.
And with lovely Emily at Imperfect Prose.
Wow. What an amazing story. Welkum, indeed.
Oh how He desires to come and dine with us — awaiting those invitations.
He is so glad you asked!
Hi Alicia – what a great reminder that we are not alone. Thankful that God teaches us sometimes through the little ones because somehow, these lessons we never forget.
God bless
Tracy
I’m so glad you stopped by and left me such a kind comment, because that led me here to this post. I’m teary eyed and humbled at the action of your little girl. To start my day welcoming Jesus is an idea I need to adopt.
Oh, Pam- I can’t stop laughing about Jesus’ barbecue 🙂
And Robin- your welcome. I sure miss you, friend.
Laura- Love your idea about stocking Lizzy’s home someday with red plates and fake fruit. I love the way you think, friend 🙂
Oh my gosh I would have broken down and started crying when I spotted the plate. When she grows up and gets her first apartment, you have to buy her red plates and bowl of beautiful fake fruit.
Thanks for sharing this book with me, my friend! 🙂
~Robin
I LOVE this story! It sounds like one you should submit somewhere… like maybe Guideposts. Reminds me of a story of my sister calling out to my mom to come quick – she was watching some bible movie on TV where Jesus was feeding the 5000. “Mom, Jesus is having a barbecue!” she cried.