The Kitchen Table Is Where Family Actually Happens

The kitchen table is where someone sits down with their after-school snack and suddenly starts talking about the friend who wasn't nice during recess. It is where Saturday breakfast turns into a two-hour conversation about nothing and everything.

These conversations can't be scheduled, but they need space to happen.

The Table Ministry

The kitchen table is where we minister to each other's hearts. Where we listen to the good things and the hard things. It is where advice gets given, inside jokes are born, and family stories get retold for the hundredth time.

My family calls this "The Table Ministry." The table is a place of communion and fellowship. Being asked to sit at someone's table is a privilege and a sign of acceptance. There's usually some type of table prepared when we accept an invitation to someone's home, whether we share a meal, a dessert, or just a glass of sweet tea or coffee, fellowship is the goal.

Growing up in the 80s and 90s, my mother always had supper prepared and our family was expected to attend. There was always plenty for whoever I brought home with me that day. Our whole family would sit down, say a prayer, and then debate which way the food should be passed. We'd laugh as each person tried to prove their point.

I'm thankful for every lesson learned and problem solved at that table. I watched how gracious and loving my parents were to our guests, even the unexpected ones. My husband and I have tried to replicate this, though we've had seasons we didn't get it right.

Our table has been a place of sharing hearts, caring, counsel, restoration, friendship, and family. So much time has been spent there meditating and studying scripture. So many rewarding discussions have happened there. I think about all of you who have joined us at our table to break bread and fellowship, and the tables we've been honored to visit to do the same.

The table is part of the intimate work of ministry. For our family, that work is rooted in remembrance of Jesus.

Something Precious Is Slipping Away

The average dinnertime 60 years ago was 90 minutes. Today, it's about 12 minutes.

Everyone eats at different times because everyone has different schedules. Dinner is grabbed between activities. The kitchen table becomes a homework station, a mail sorting area — anything but a gathering place. Phones buzz, backpacks pile up, and everyone keeps moving.

Somewhere between soccer practice and piano lessons and project deadlines, we got so busy that we stopped making time for the table. And we feel the loss when it's gone.

What Happens When You Protect This Time

Here's something beautiful: when you make family meals a habit, when you protect that table time, your children start to crave it too. Keep showing up. Keep making space for these conversations.

They'll remember these meals. They'll remember the important decisions that got made at this table. They'll remember feeling heard. They'll remember that this was the place where they belonged.

It should be the best time of the day! A time to sit down, relax, let your guard down, and invest in the next generation. It is the reward for your hard work that day.

Guard What Matters

If you need to put family dinner on the calendar so everyone makes time for it, then put it on the calendar.

This isn't about adding more rules. It is about protecting what matters most.

Treat Tuesday night dinner like your son's eye doctor appointment — it's non-negotiable. Let the calendar carry that burden so you don't have to hold it in your head.

Your children's schedules are only going to get busier. If you don't intentionally create space for the kitchen table now, you'll wake up one day and realize you can't remember the last time you all sat down together.

Start Tonight

You don't need a perfect plan. You don't need a Pinterest-worthy meal.

Just say: "Let's eat together tonight. No phones. Supper is at 5:00."

The important conversations will come. The laughter will happen. The listening, the advising, the ministering to each other's hearts — all flow from simply being together.

Let's move better together! Much love — Glynda

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