Supper Time

Depth is beautiful. So is a 16oz ribeye.

Rich.
Substantial.
Satisfying.
But even the finest steak must be sliced if it is going to feed the table.
I am drawn to depth. I honor it.

I respect revelation that stretches us and calls us higher.
But I have sat at tables rich with wisdom and left still hungry — not because the food lacked substance, but because I did not know how to enter.

Everything was weighty.
Everything landed with force.
And somewhere in the impact, participation disappeared.

The goal of wisdom is not silence in the room.
It is building the room.
Not shock — connection.
Not awe alone — nourishment.

We are called to strengthen and prepare the Body of Christ. If people leave saying, “That was profound,” yet walk away dim instead of ignited, something essential is missing.

We cannot become what we cannot digest.

There are hungry people who honor what is being served. They are not resistant. They are not shallow. But when the portion comes all at once, they leave unfulfilled — still hungry in mind, spirit, and body.

So it is the same when revelation seems to just shock or ruffle feathers.

If I am invited to come and dine, yet the table overturns each time I sit down, I cannot be strengthened.
Jesus says, “Come and dine.”
Bread is broken.
Space is made.
People are fed.

Supper time is not about spectacle.
It is about nourishment.
It is about sitting down together, eating slowly, and leaving stronger than when we arrived.

There is enough at the table for everyone.
Let us serve it in a way that nourishes and leaves them eagerly anticipating the next encounter..