The welcome table

Beloved friends are a privilege and a joy, especially during December holidays, when the music, lights, candles, gifts, food, and excitement our culture has created can be a light in the darkness. Or not. 

Holidays can be heartbreak. Some have been rejected by their families of origin or have rejected their families for good reason. In some families the holidays are an excuse for binge drinking. Some people are mourning, and for them the holidays are shards of broken glass. Some have no children to fuss over (by choice or otherwise), some are isolated (by choice or otherwise), some cannot afford to buy gifts for the people they love. Some are living in the street, some are unemployed, some have to work through the holidays. Some are far from those they love and cannot reach them. Some are refugees of one kind or another. 

We are surrounded by images of happy, smiling people gathered around beautiful trees with heaps of glimmering beribboned gifts and tables heavy with traditional foods. If that is not your reality, you may feel you did something wrong. Lived the wrong life. You might wonder if somehow you failed. You didn’t reproduce the kind of material happiness and comfort capitalism promises to those who “work hard.” So you doubt yourself. You embrace your dysfunctional family and wonder what it’s like to have the other kind. For all those who doubt themselves, who ask themselves painful questions, who come to the feast with weary hearts, I offer a blessing. A moment of understanding. You are remembered. You are seen. I prepare a virtual table where holiday cheer is not obligatory. Come as you are. Bring what you have. All are welcome here.