One year, it became clear that our family had outgrown Grandma Barb’s Thanksgiving table.
I offered to open my home for the feast since I was next in the legacy line. But as I thumbed through a recipe box and dusted off platters, I came to an alarming revelation.
While our family had increased in number, I was a bit short on expertise.
“So, Barb, umm… Please tell me what to do,” I asked one day, paper and pen in hand.
“Just set the table, boil the water, and turn on the oven,” she instructed.
“That’s all?” I asked incredulously.
“That’s all,” she said with a laugh.
When the big day came, I did as I was told. Family members pulled chairs up to the table one by one, but there was no Grandma Barb.
I checked my watch. Had I misunderstood?
“Cheese and crackers?” I offered, knowing it was not enough to satisfy this crowd. Hope began to evaporate like the boiling water on the stove.
But then a car door slammed, and a voice called out, “Can I get a little help here?”
We all ran to carry in the feast Grandma had been working on behind the scenes. The turkey burst with stuffing, gravy oozed over the potatoes, and I set the pies in the oven to warm.
“Don’t forget the noodles,” she said, emptying them into the boiling pan.
When we bowed our heads in thanks, I was reminded of how extravagant the Lord’s provision is, especially in the areas we most lack.
Whether the Lord has brought good things to your table this year or you are still waiting—keep the oven on. A feast is on the way.
“For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things (Psalm 107:9).