Sunday morning. Five us gather around the kitchen table—me, Wally, our son Joel, and two friends, Ruthie and Cheryl. Lots of people come and go from Cloudland, our retreat center in southwest Ohio. Most of them stay in the Barn Studio, but close friends, like Ruthie and Cheryl, stay with us in the house. Joel’s oaky with that, for the most part. He doesn’t mind sharing Mom and Dad with friends, and he definitely counts Cheryl and Ruthie among his dear friends. We have shared birthdays, prayers, concerts, and long drives in the country together.
Today is one of those days that Joel can’t sit still, so after a couple of bites of bacon and gluten-free toast, he disappears into the living room. Strains of John Denver, singing “Thank God I’m A Country Boy,” drift into the kitchen. Music is Joel’s first language, and he plays his favorites—John Denver, James Taylor, and Amy Grant—over and over again. His iPad, as usual, is turned up full blast. He refuses to wear his headphones, so whatever Joel listens to, the rest of us listen to. Annoying at times, but thankfully he inherited at least some of his musical taste from us. We recently introduced him to one of our new favorites, Carrie Newcomer She’s not yet found her way into his heart, or so I thought.
The mouth-watering smell of bacon permeates the kitchen as the rest of us, taking our time at the table, talk about the Healing Rooms where we served last night: one woman healed of intense shoulder pain, another received emotional healing in a difficult family situation, my chronic fatigue lightened. Knives and forks clink against plates, John Denver shouts “Yahoo!” from the living room, and laughter mixes with sunlight to make the morning golden.
I look up from buttering my toast to see Joel standing at the table between Cheryl and his dad. His fingers flash-dance across the icons of his iPad. I figure he’s looking for a photo to show us. Joel has some language, but his autism makes expressive language very difficult. Most of his communication is done through facial expressions, music, and sharing photos he likes.
He finds what he’s looking for. It’s not a photo, but a song. Carrie Newcomer joins us in our sunlit kitchen, singing “Room at the Table.”
Let our hearts not be hardened to those living on the margins,
There is room at the table for everyone.
This is where it all begins, this is how we gather in,
There is room at the table for everyone.Too long we have wandered, burdened and undone,
But, there is room at the table for everyone.
Let us sing the new world in, this is how it all begins,
There is room at the table for everyone.Chorus:
There is room for us all, and no gift is too small.
There is room at the table for everyone.
There's enough if we share, come on pull up a chair.
There’s room at the table for everyone.
A sunbeam, streaming in through the kitchen window, rests on Joel. Light shimmers around him. As the music plays, he slowly looks around the table, looking each of us in the eye with his beautiful, baby blues. (Who says autism means no eye contact?!). His grin says it all: I have a gift for you! Please listen!
Joel has never met Carrie Newcomer, never heard her live, in concert, but her spirit has touched his spirit and he’s got something to say to us right here, right now in this sunlit kitchen.
Joel says, I love that there is room around this kitchen table for all of us. I love it when friends spend the night and stay for breakfast. I love that I am free to sit with you or leave the table to listen to my music. His smile says, I welcome you, friends. Thank you for welcoming me into your lives and your hearts. Thank you for being here with us.
We are a table full of smiles, singing along with Joel and Carrie:
Let our hearts not be hardened to those living on the margins,
There is room at the table for everyone.
Lord, may Joel's message, through the words of Carrie Newcomer, spread throughout our communities, our churches, our schools, our world.
Let us sing the new world in, this is how it all begins.
There is room at the table for everyone!
Kathy is a spiritual director, author, and co-owner, with her husband, of Cloudland, a contemplative retreat center outside of Oxford, Ohio. The mother of 3 sons, 1 daughter-of-heart, and 1 grandson, she also enjoys writing middle grade fiction. You can reach her through her website, kathleenbolduc.com.
