Sometimes I win things. Not so much lately, but enough that my dad used to give me money to play the lottery for him. Last week I won a business card drawing at an Atlanta event. The prize? Three $20 restaurant gift cards.
Not just any kind of restaurant, but a small network of fancy, downtown, reservations recommended, if-you-have-to-ask-you-probably-can’t-afford-it kind of restaurants. One look at the website and I’d psyched myself out.
I really don’t belong there.
This is too nice for me.
I’d be uncomfortable.
Good grief. It’s ridiculous how worked up I got over something as simple as eating out.
Then I imagined the view from the other side: If I were a chef or restaurant owner, I’d create a unique dining experience, warm and inviting, the best it could be. Intimidation would never be the goal. So why my reaction?
I tell my kids not to worry so much about every detail of their appearance or every move they make in social settings, that most people are too busy worrying about themselves to over-analyze someone else, but obviously I don’t listen to myself.
And then I think about Jesus: in spite of the humbleness of his appearance and associations, he was the most royal, supreme being to walk this earth. Those who broke bread with him, who shared his fellowship, weren’t fancy. They were publicans and sinners, the social outcasts of the day.
Thankfully, he still seeks fellowship.
Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me. ~Revelation 3:20
Jesus isn’t worried about the size of your bank account or your social standing or what you bring to the table, literally or figuratively. He asks us to sup with him, to seek his fellowship above all others, to rest our weary head and lay our yoke upon him.
In his presence is peace. Dwell in it.