The Empty Chair
There are few things more noticeable around a table than an empty chair.
Sometimes it's empty because someone is running late.
Sometimes it's empty because a child has grown up and moved away.
Sometimes it's empty because a loved one has gone home to be with the Lord.
And sometimes...
It's empty because no one thought to invite them.
That may be the saddest empty chair of all.
Every Table Tells a Story
Growing up, our family table wasn't just a place to eat. It was where life happened.
We celebrated birthdays.
We laughed until our stomachs hurt.
We talked about school, work, and church.
We prayed together.
Sometimes we cried together.
The food brought us to the table, but the relationships were what kept us there.
Looking back, I don't remember every meal.
I remember the people.
That's the power of a table.
Jesus Always Made Room
One of the things I love most about reading the Gospels is noticing who Jesus invited close.
Children.
Fishermen.
Tax collectors.
Widows.
The sick.
The overlooked.
The people everyone else avoided.
He had a way of making people feel like there was always room for one more.
Even when crowds surrounded Him, people knew they were welcome.
Jesus didn't simply preach about love.
He practiced it by making room for people.
Who Is Missing From Your Table?
This question has challenged me more than any other.
Who isn't here?
Is it the elderly neighbor who eats alone?
The young family that's new to church?
The college student who can't make it home?
The widow who hasn't been invited anywhere in months?
The single parent trying to keep everything together?
The coworker who smiles on the outside but is hurting inside?
The family who just moved into your neighborhood?
Sometimes we pray for God to use us while overlooking the empty chair He has already placed in front of us.
Hospitality Doesn't Require Perfection
Too many people believe they can't invite others into their homes because everything isn't perfect.
The house isn't clean enough.
The furniture doesn't match.
The meal won't impress anyone.
Can I let you in on a secret?
People rarely remember what was on the menu.
They remember how they were treated.
They remember whether someone listened.
Whether someone laughed with them.
Whether someone cared enough to make room.
Hospitality isn't about perfection.
It's about presence.
The Church Should Never Run Out of Chairs
Imagine if every Christian family intentionally left room for someone else.
Imagine if every Sunday lunch included one extra guest.
Imagine if every small group looked for the person standing alone.
Imagine if every church member asked, "Who needs a seat at my table this month?"
I believe loneliness would begin to lose its grip.
Friendships would form.
Faith would grow.
People wouldn't just attend church.
They would belong.
One Chair Can Change a Life
I have spent much of my life in hospitality and ministry, and I've learned something simple but profound:
The most important seat in the room is often the empty one.
Because it represents possibility.
A conversation waiting to happen.
A friendship waiting to begin.
A prayer waiting to be shared.
A life waiting to encounter the love of Christ.
Never underestimate what God can do through one invitation.
Around the Campfire
When Jesus told His followers to love their neighbors, He wasn't only talking about grand gestures. Sometimes love looks as simple as setting one more plate on the table.
This week, take a look around your life.
Who is missing?
Who has been overlooked?
Who might be waiting for someone to notice them?
Then do something wonderfully ordinary.
Pull out another chair.
Make another plate.
Send the invitation.
You may discover that the empty chair isn't just waiting for a guest.
It's waiting for God to do something extraordinary through your willingness to make room.
See you around the campfire,
Travis