The Table Still Worth Setting

Even when the circle changes, His presence is still the feast.

There’s been an empty chair at our Thanksgiving table for a couple of years now.

When I picture it, I can still see, my oldest son, Jacob—laughing, holding hands as we prayed, reaching for the ham first, joking with the kids, making everyone smile. That circle felt whole back then. Now, it’s changed.

As he’s grown, stepped into ministry, and started his own family, he spends Thanksgiving at his wife’s parents’ home. I miss him—of course I do.

But this year, I feel more peace than I did before.

I’m learning that part of loving your children well means releasing them when it’s time. Someone once said, “You have to let go of your kids in different seasons,” and I’ve felt that truth sink deeper every year.

It’s not that I don’t still ache when I look around the table. I do. But the ache no longer feels like loss. It feels like surrender.

Last year, I found myself thinking why bother about certain things.

Why decorate when it won’t look like it used to?

Why cook the same meal when the table feels different?

But every time that thought came, something in me whispered, if you’re still breathing, you need to bother.

Because the moment we stop showing up is the moment we forget that God still gives breath with purpose. Why bother is the language of doubt, not faith.

If He’s given us another sunrise, another breath, another table to sit at—He’s still writing something.

Even when it doesn’t look the way we hoped.

This year, our Thanksgiving looks completely different.

Shawn surprised me and the kids with a five-day cruise to the Bahamas. It’s been on my bucket list for years, and honestly, I never thought he’d do it…he’s always had a bit of claustrophobia about cruises. But he surrendered that fear and booked it anyway.

We won’t be at the usual family table this year. There won’t be the same food, or his dad saying the blessing, or that familiar chaos of voices in the kitchen. But maybe that’s part of God’s plan, to show me that gratitude isn’t limited to one room or one chair.

Sometimes the table God sets looks nothing like the one we imagined.

Sometimes it’s on a ship, in the middle of the ocean, where the hum of the engines replaces the chatter of cousins, the salt air wraps around your skin, and the sunset becomes the only candle you need.

Jesus gave thanks the night He broke bread with His disciples, knowing what was coming next.

He blessed what He knew would be broken.

That moment has been echoing in my spirit this month. Because giving thanks in the middle…not after the healing, not after the clarity, but right in the ache…that’s where faith becomes real.

Breaking bread isn’t just about food for me anymore. It’s about pausing long enough to see what’s in front of me, to feel God sitting right beside me in whatever table I find myself at.

Some days it’s an office desk.

Some days it’s the car, quiet between errands.

Some days it’s the kitchen counter, where a simple meal is enough.

He prepares all of it before I ever arrive.

The truth I feel God whispering through this season is this:

Keep living. Keep setting the table. Keep showing up.

Even if you’re sad.

Even if you’re by yourself.

Even if it looks different than you wanted.

Because you’re not alone.

God prepares the table before you, every single day, in every single place.

He’s the one who breathes life into your lungs.

And if you’re still breathing, you still have kingdom purpose.

You might feel half empty…but maybe that’s just the space He’s waiting to fill.

So, find what fills you up from Him, not from the world.

Praise. Prayer. Surrender. Fasting.

Quiet walks where you talk to Him like a friend.

Reading Scripture and asking Him to reveal Himself in new ways.

Finding peace right where He’s placed you.

Wherever your feet are…that’s where God is.

And He’s still worthy of your gratitude.

So even if your table looks different this year…

even if the people around it have changed…

even if you have to let go of what once was…

set the table anyway.

Light the candle.

Pour the tea.

Say the blessing.

Invite His presence to fill what’s missing.

Because His presence is the feast…

and soon, even this table will glow with light.

“You prepare a table before me… surely Your goodness and love will follow me.”

— Psalm 23: 5-6

Jess ❤️