Why "A Place At The Table" Exists

The Full Story 

When I was 11 (1972), my mom had had enough of my Dad’s drinking and abuse and told him to leave. One of my siblings said that while they were watching TV, Dad just walked out of the house and did not come back. He never said goodbye at all. Shortly after, Mom went into the hospital and was there for about 6 months.

She was at home for a while but was back in again in June of 1974. She died just a few weeks later.

When our relatives told us that our mom had died, I ran out the door and sat on a swing at the local park and just wept. After a bit, I went to a friend’s place and sat on their couch. They were having supper. I know that they probably didn’t know what to say or how to handle it, but it would have been great if someone had just sat by me. That would have brought so much comfort.

Between ages 13 and 16, I spent time in foster homes, lived with my brother for a bit, then moved on my own at 16.

On Nov 4, 1982, I received a phone call at Bible school telling me that my dad had died. I stood by the pay phone in the student lounge and wept. Even though my dad had not been a good father, I still hoped that someday we could have a good relationship.

When a family that I knew had family gatherings at their place, they would often invite me to join them, but it never felt right. I just didn’t feel like part of the family and that I didn’ t have a place at that table. That was not their fault. It was just awkward because I did not have a family like that and did not want to intrude.

During my first year of college, I needed a place to stay on weekends, so this family invited me to stay at their place. I spent the first year there, then my final year and after that it was just home. I came back there after camp each summer, as well as 3 times when I was gone overseas for a year each time. It just became home for me. They served as honorary parents at my wedding and are grandma and grandpa to my kids.

In the summer of 1981, while I was a counselor at camp, I had a guy in my cabin from the inner city but he was living with a foster family out on a farm. When they came to pick him up, they invited me to come out to their place after camp. I ended up going to visit. I spent time after camp in the coming years at their place, as well as some Christmas holidays. They quickly “adopted me” and they became Mom and Dad.

A place to come home to.

There was a loving family that accepted me and made me feel like I belonged.

I eventually felt comfortable there and felt like I was just one of the family.

I saw what it meant to be a godly father and husband. I saw what a Christian family looked like. This helped to shape me into who I am and how I have raised my kids and related to my wife.