The Centerpiece

As I took a walk on Thanksgiving morning before the family came over for a holiday breakfast, it suddenly occurred to me that we had no centerpiece for the table.




I couldn’t help but think about last Thanksgiving; Mom was with us. We cooked dinner together. Canadian geese bellowed outside; the stereo sang inside. The table was set and we had our choice of floral arrangements to use as the centerpiece. Several people had sent them to us, expressing their care as we prayed that Mom would be healed.


As I walked past dried weeds and berry-laden bushes, I thought that perhaps I could gather a few things from nature to beautify our table. But I was already behind schedule and didn’t have time for anything extra.


Back inside, I began slicing oranges and making the special oatmeal that cooks for half an hour. I selected a rich maroon tablecloth that reminded me of Mom and spread it over her table. As my sisters arrived, they helped set the table and prepare food. Then one of them announced that Aunt Ruth had dropped off a centerpiece at her house for all of us, along with a Thanksgiving card.


Those bright, fresh flowers around a yellow candle perfectly complemented the tablecloth. The centerpiece was the same style of two that we had received last year, and I knew that God was speaking directly to my unspoken feelings.


He knew how many countless little details I missed because of Mom’s absence. He knew I needed to know that someone remembered. He wanted me to know how much He cared.


I’m so thankful for the many ways that He acknowledges my heart, and how faithfully He does so. I’m grateful that my aunt, herself recently bereaved, took the time to do something special for us. She carried God’s specific message to someone waiting to receive it. How many simple and unique messages does God desire each of us to carry for Him today?



Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.