A Seat at the Table
Fall has a way of shifting our rhythms. The days get shorter, the schedule picks up, and if we're not careful, so does the distance between us and the things that matter most.
I don’t know if you’ve ever felt it, but there’s this subtle pull to withdraw. To check out emotionally. To start showing up less—at home, in your marriage, with your kids, in your faith, and around your brothers. Not necessarily because you’re angry or rebellious, but just… tired. Worn down. Maybe even disappointed by how things have played out this year.
I’ve been there more than once. Not walking away, but pulling away—slowly, quietly, almost justifying it as “a needed break.”
But the truth is, when men check out—even if it's slow or quiet—it leaves more than just an empty chair. It leaves a gap. And that gap gets felt by your wife, your kids, your friends, your church… and whether you believe it or not, it matters to God.
Because He prepared a seat for you at the table.
God Doesn’t Just Offer You a Task—He Offers You a Table
I keep thinking about Mephibosheth in 2 Samuel 9. It’s one of the most grace-filled scenes in the Old Testament.
Mephibosheth was broken. Injured. Forgotten. The kind of man you’d never expect to see in the palace, much less seated at the king’s table. And yet, when King David remembers his promise to Jonathan, he sends for him—not to shame him or scold him, but to bless him.
“Do not be afraid,” David said to him, “for I will surely show you kindness... and you will always eat at my table.” (2 Samuel 9:7)
He didn’t earn that seat. He didn’t bring any strength to the table. But David gave him a place, as one of his own sons.
Mephibosheth may have had nothing to offer—but he still had a place to belong.
That’s how God sees us. Not as liabilities. Not as burdens. Not as broken men who have to prove ourselves. But as sons—invited to the table, not because we’ve earned it, but because He’s good enough to offer it.
And yet… even when the invitation is there, many of us still hesitate.
We’ve Got a Thousand Reasons Not to Show Up
Jesus once told a story in Luke 14 about a banquet. A massive feast was prepared, and invitations were sent out—but one by one, the excuses started rolling in:
“I just bought a field…”
“I’ve got work to do…”
“I just got married…”
“I’ve got other things going on…”
You can almost hear today’s versions of those same lines:
“Things are just really hectic at work right now…”
“I need some time to myself after everything I’ve had to carry…”
“I’m not where I need to be spiritually anyway—I’ll re-engage later…”
But here’s what I’ve learned: you rarely feel ready to show up when it matters most. In fact, the deeper the pain or pressure, the greater the temptation to isolate. And when we isolate, we start drifting—not just from people, but from purpose. From truth. From accountability. From healing.
I remember a time not long ago when I felt the weight of ministry pressing down, and honestly, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to pray. I didn’t want to fake a smile or sit through another message. I was burned out. Tired. A little cynical.
But what I needed wasn’t a break from the table—I needed the bread at it.
I needed the strength that only comes when you sit down, open up, and stay awhile. Even if you don’t say much. Even if all you bring is your weakness and weariness.
Presence > Perfection
One of the most comforting scriptures in the Bible to me is Revelation 3:20. It’s Jesus speaking, and He’s not shouting commands or giving orders. He’s knocking:
“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him…”
He wants to be with you. Not just when you’re spiritually on point. Not just when you’ve read your Bible five days in a row or led a family devotion like a pro. But right now—as you are.
Because grace isn’t reserved for when we’ve cleaned ourselves up. It’s offered when we simply open the door and sit down.
God doesn’t expect perfection. But He does value presence.
Your seat at the table is not about proving your worth. It’s about accepting your identity—as a son. As one who belongs.
Don’t Check Out—Your Presence Carries Weight
Men, you may not realize it, but when you check out, it impacts more than just you.
Your wife feels the weight of your absence—even if you’re still in the room.
Your kids notice when your heart’s not at the table—even if your body is.
Your church misses your encouragement, your perspective, your presence.
And heaven aches when sons pull away from the Father’s invitation.
And here’s the thing: no one can sit in your seat but you. There are things God has placed in your hands that only you can carry. And if you walk away from the table, they go unattended.
You don’t have to feel spiritual. You don’t have to have the right words.
Just don’t disappear. Show up. Stay open. Sit down and listen.
Because sometimes the greatest act of faith is just staying at the table.
So here’s my question to you as we head into this fall:
Are you drifting from the table?
Are you present physically, but distant emotionally?
Are you choosing isolation over invitation?
You’ve got a seat waiting for you—not because you earned it, but because grace has already pulled the chair out.
Don’t let shame keep you away.
Don’t let tiredness talk you out of it.
Don’t let your pride keep pretending you’re fine.
Come back. Sit down. Stay awhile.
Because when men sit at the table with God and each other, families get stronger, churches get healthier, and lives get transformed.
There’s a seat with your name on it.
