As I read this morning, I found myself “pondering” how often famous people in the Bible might’ve wished they could go back. Peter … to before he denied following Christ. David … to before he committed adultery with Bathsheba and had her husband killed. Moses … to before he struck the rock in anger. Wishing we could go back and do things differently is a human emotion we all share, so I suspect they occasionally felt that way. I know I do.
But then my mind, as it so often does, led me in a different direction. So, here’s my question for you: If you could go back in time to some childhood event for just 30 minutes, where (and to when) would you go?
Not to change history. Not to prevent some terrible mistake. Not to buy the winning lottery ticket. Just 30 minutes to enjoy an ordinary moment that you miss today.
I had several ideas, but one would include a Sunday dinner at my grandma’s house. It could be any Sunday, because none were special, and yet they all were. We went most Sundays after church, and I remember times I didn’t want to go. But now, looking back, I remember how good a cook she was and how she greeted us at the door when we arrived and stood on the porch waving goodbye when we drove away. I remember fried chicken, real mashed potatoes and gravy, homemade bread, cottage cheese mixed with strawberry jam (don’t judge!), fresh-baked pies and cookies, and even weird Jell-O salad. I remember card games and lazy afternoons on the porch. But most of all, I remember being loved.
What about you? Maybe it would be something your grandmother made. Or your mom’s Sunday dinner. Maybe it was pizza after a game, pancakes on a Saturday morning, or a holiday meal when the entire family somehow managed to be around the same table.
And here’s the interesting part: Why that meal? What made it special?
I doubt it was just about the food. Maybe it was the people sitting around the table, people who are gone. Maybe it was the innocent laughter of youth. Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t have anywhere else to be or a list of things to do. Maybe it was a season of life when you felt safe, loved, and known—and you didn’t even realize how precious that was at the time.
Funny how memory works.
Sometimes we remember the food, but what we’re really remembering is belonging. We remember the event, but what comes rushing back is a feeling. We remember the table, but what we really miss are the people gathered around it.
And maybe that’s why Scripture so often uses meals and tables to tell the story of God. Jesus ate with people. A lot. He ate with his friends and with strangers, friends and critics, “respectable” people and those cast aside by society. He fed hungry crowds. And in one of the most significant acts of Christian worship, he told us to remember him around a table.
Apparently, God knows something we sometimes forget: A table can be holy ground.
So if I had 30 minutes to go back to one of those meals, maybe I’d pay better attention. Listen to the voices. Watch the faces. Notice the ordinary miracle of everyone being together. And then enjoy grandma’s cooking. And perhaps I’d whisper a prayer: “Thank you, God, for this moment. I didn’t know it then, but this was a gift.”
Those might be good reminders for us today. Because some moment that happens to you today may someday become the moment you wish you could go back and experience for just 30 minutes.
So enjoy the coffee. Call a person you love. Laugh at a ridiculous story. Stay at the table a little longer. And give thanks. Because sometimes the most ordinary moments become the places where we discover, years later, that God was quietly giving us something extraordinary.
What is your 30-minute moment? Now pause … and thank God for it. Have a blessed day!
