Okay, I have my list. I’ve got my plan and I’m headed to the import store for, table cloth, check. Napkins and utensils, check.
In my head, I see it—this table of mine in a sea of china, silver, and crystal.
Only my table is the exact opposite.
Instead of china, wooden plates with plain glass plates on top. Wooden spoons with wooden forks. A tablecloth, not of fine linen, but rough woven cloth, like something Moses would have worn. Plain brown napkins tied with leather thongs. In the center of the table, a basin and towel, with the book. (Yeah.) Maybe I could even write a poem?
And then it hits me—an idea!
What if I take a bunch of clay bowls, line them with broken bits of pottery, so the “broken” is on the inside. Put a bar of homemade soap wrapped in brown paper and tied with leather thongs. Add a rolled up towel, and a copy of the poem for each woman. Something they can take home and keep long after the event is over!
Isn’t that the theme I’m really looking for?
Okay, now I’m getting excited. So I take all my stuff up to the counter eager to check out and get on my way.
That’s when I see it. Something totally unexpected. This plain brown box, on the floor behind the counter, with a huge clay jar in a dozen broken pieces. My centerpiece!
It speaks so loudly no one could possibly miss it!
The clerk assures me, “It’s only junk, and once logged in on the breakage list, destined for the trash.”
Yes, I can have it.
I set the box on the floor of my car, and start for home when God shows up. Not like last time but I did feel just like Moses staring at that burning bush. It wasn’t an audible Voice but I know God spoke.
From this plain brown box, through a broken jar, He spoke straight into my heart.
He showed up again, in an unexpected place, in an unexpected way, and I knew.
He was up to something BIG.