Dinner with the King

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I sometimes imagine the King having dinner.

This particular night He does not sit at the long, massive table. He has chosen the low table with cushions so He can be more intimate with His inner circle.

I am His personal servant for the meal. (Well, actually I am His slave, but He treats me with such respect that the word doesn’t seem to apply.)

Because I adore Him, my full attention is on Him during the meal. Though I keep my place in the shadowy corner of the room, my eyes are fixed on Him. I want to refill His goblet well before He has to motion to me. I want to place more bread on His plate so He never has to reach for it.

The quietness of the room strikes me as so vastly different from the day of His coronation. Now that was a day! The trumpets and the banners and the music were thrilling. But nothing compared to the moment that the Father placed the crown on His Son. I remember shouting praises to Him until I was hoarse.

But tonight I love His gentle voice and His laughter with His friends. I soak up His words of wisdom, immensely grateful for the privilege of being in the same room with Him.

Sometimes I imagine bad people bursting in to harm the King. I know that without hesitation I would lay down my life for Him.

But the King now is motioning me to come. I can’t imagine what I have left undone. As I approach Him, He smiles and His warm eyes meet mine.

Softly He asks those beside Him to move down, leaving an empty cushion beside Him. Then He does the unthinkable. He motions for me to sit beside Him. I do so awkwardly, with my back as stiff as a board.

Then He invites His friends to continue the conversation. As the stories and laughter resume, the King gently puts His arm around my stiff shoulder and pulls me to His side.

I’m in awe of Him as always, but somehow the stiffness leaves me. I soak up the closeness.

As dinner comes to a close, He says to me, “I wanted you by my side tonight because I have news for you. This is your last day of kitchen duty. Beginning tomorrow morning, you are to ride with Me. I have a generation of teenagers to redeem, and I want you to join me as I do.”

No words could thrill me more! The King, whose supreme majesty fills me with awe . . . The King I adore . . . This King will allow me to arise each morning to join Him on kingdom adventures. It now is so clear to me—this is my purpose, the reason for my existence.

And who knows? Maybe He’s calling others the way He’s calling me. What if He’s calling out others in my church so awakened to His majesty that they too want to join Him on kingdom adventures with teenagers?

We will see. All I know is, tomorrow I ride with the King!

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