The Next Guest

By Lynn Ludwick

“May I help the next guest in line?” I first heard that question at a department store and it irked me. I next heard the same words in a fabric store. Why did they consider me a guest? When I reached the cash register the clerk issuing the invitation asked for the green stuff or plastic in exchange for the merchandise in my shopping cart—no giveaways there. Then my bank took up the slogan. Was this a new trend?

This whole guest concept in marketing is supposed to make me feel special. Tea at a girlfriend’s home makes me feel special—being lured into a place of business out to milk my wallet does not. When people come to my home as genuine guests I do serve a refreshments and offer hospitality. What I don’t do is hand them a tab at the door. “Pay up now, Guests, this privilege is gonna cost ya.”

This Thanksgiving I’ll join others at my son and daughter-in-law’s home to eat and celebrate our thanks for our myriad blessings. The bond of family, the excitement of being in their newly-remodeled home, the joy of our ninety-three year old mother/grandmother still with us, the delight of squealing toddlers. We’ll gather around the table and lounge in the living room, eat too much, laugh, and snap pictures. For free! Well, they will extract a slight charge from me—a pecan pie and a side dish.

Yet another table awaits, The Banqueting Table prepared by God for His family. “He has taken me to the banquet hall, and his banner over me is love.” Song of Songs 2:4 By contrast, that event will make Norman Rockwell’s Thanksgiving portrayal look like a TV dinner.

There I’ll be an honored guest in response to The Grand Invitation issued by God Himself. “Come, Lynn, be saved from yourself, from your sins, from eternal damnation.”

“Uh, what’s this going to cost?” I was skeptical.

“Death,” He replied without batting a divine eye.

I gasped, but He hurried on. “Oh, don’t worry. Jesus picked up the tab. He died for you and the price has been paid. So come on in.”

Before then I may join Him at other tables He has prepared—a “table-for-two” called prayer where I may join my Lord anytime, my kitchen table where I sit and read what He wrote to me in the Bible, the Communion table where He and I meet to remember Jesus’ sacrifice and to rearrange my heart.

I’ve sat at a lot of earthly tables, both as a guest and as the hostess. As a young bride I hosted eighteen for Thanksgiving, and decades later tucked in eleven family members for a week of Christmas celebration. I’ve thrown kids’ birthday and Christmas parties, tea parties, brunches, luncheons, barbeques and dinners. And I’ve attended such events in friends’ and relatives’ homes.

So many marvelous events, but they pale in comparison to that ultimate banquet—a mere foretaste. I have quite an imagination, so indulge me here. Picture people from all over the world, all races, all sizes, some in turbans and flowing robes, some in loincloths, others in suits, some in sunbonnets. Others will wear the garb of Moses or David. And oh yes, they will be there. Imagine meeting them face-to-face. The food will be divine, literally, and no cleanup. (Surely there won’t be dishes to wash in Heaven.) All will understand the conversation. No theology implied here, just a bit of daydreaming. What I do know for certain is being a guest at that table will surpass anything I might conjure in my imagination.

So the next time I’m stuck in line at a store and someone calls me a guest, I’ll swallow my annoyance. With all I have to anticipate, I’ll humor their silly ploys. After all, I anticipate residing in God’s home and eating at His table as a no-charge guest. Forever. Wow!

But until then, I’m looking forward to the upcoming Thanksgiving feast. As a genuine no-charge guest.

“Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.” Psalm 23:5-6

Lynn Ludwick writes from Medford, Oregon. lynniegirl45@hotmail.com