As the woods ready themselves for fall and the deer stand gazing at me in my driveway, I am reminded of how much I love autumn. However, with it comes the sad reminder of my son Chad's death. It is six years on November 1 - All Saints Day. There is not a day that goes by that he isn't close to my heart. It was especially poignant as I was jolted by a discussion on death.

Just yesterday my mother in law and I attended a funeral of a long time friend of hers. She went to school with this woman for grades one through twelve and about six weeks ago I accompanied her to their 73rd high school class reunion. Now here we were attending her funeral. It so happened that the person giving the eulogy read a scripture that said the dead in Christ shall rise first at the second coming of Christ. My mother in law, a great woman of faith in God, was startled. She said to me, "All this time I believed Dad (her husband) has been in heaven with Jimmy (her son). Now it sounds like they aren't there at all - there are still in the ground waiting for Jesus to come again. Do you believe that she asked me?"

I was struggling to find an answer her in a way that was encouraging and yet not suggest that the way she literally interprets scripture is wrong. After all, she is 91 and knows far more than me. "Mother," I said, " I think the Apostle Paul and all those folks way back then are just like you and me - trying to figure out about heaven and hell, and where the dead go. I believe that my Chad and Dad and Jimmy are all in heaven with God. It's a mystery I can't explain but I believe it."

"I guess you are right," she said. "I sure would hate to think of Dad just lying dead in the ground all this time. He speaks to me sometimes you know," she said.

There is no joy in having a child die at 26 years old. The wound is always there - sometimes it bursts open anew and other times it is covered well with a band aid - but it is always there. My comfort comes in knowing Chad is with God. So as the leaves turn and die and the cold sets in, I am reminded that the loss I feel will once again enter a new season.

It's finally here!

Hi folks, my blog is finally up and running. Some of you have been asking for a Bible study on line so this is where you will find it!

About the title - I wanted to name it Under the Table, but that was already taken. Love at the Table comes because of my deep joy in God's welcome to all. Years ago when I was a foster parent I discovered that meal time was often the roughest time of the day. Children who came to live with me had often been traumatized and so sitting around the table and enjoying a good meal was not something to which they were accustomed.

More than once, I had to sit under the table, holding a child in the midst of a tantrum or rocking one who was crying. I discovered that great comfort and grace was found under the table and at the meal. I considered it great joy when we all got to eat together.

I remember too of the kind neighbor that fed my brother and I every morning at her house when we were supposed to be waiting for the bus. She was aware that we were usually hungry and had no parent to see that we received good nutrition. In addition, we were the recipients of her nurture which lasted a lifetime. Thanks to God that this kind woman gave Love at the Table!