Our front door

I have a confession. It’s not pretty. Sometimes when I entertain I drive myself (and my husband) nuts.

There are leaves on the porch! What if my pecan pies aren’t done in the middle?

We’re having eighteen people for Thanksgiving. Last week I stopped by Mother’s to borrow her yellow tablecloth.

“It’s full of wrinkles,” she said. “Better take it to the cleaners. You can try putting it in the dryer with a damp towel, but just don’t use it looking like this.”

She was only trying to help.

As soon as I got home, I spread the tablecloth across my kitchen table. Mother was right. It was wrinkled.

I tried the dryer trick three times. No better.

I called my BFF. “Do you iron tablecloths?”

She laughed. “No way. I decorate over the wrinkles.”

Ignoring her simple solution, I ironed the tablecloth on top of my table. Better, but not perfect. Then I ironed it on the ironing board slowly, carefully, one section at a time. Still not quite perfect.

You don’t have to do this. Relax. This isn’t what Thanksgiving is about.

I called the cleaners. If I could get it there STAT, they could have it back by Tuesday afternoon.  I raced it to them.

Nothing else mattered but having a wrinkle-free tablecloth.

At our porch party this morning, I studied the trees and had a feeling God had a message for me.  The trees were gorgeous but some leaves had fallen too soon.

Ahhh! What am I doing critiquing the trees?

My problem wasn’t the wrinkled tablecloth. Or the trees. My problem was pride.

Lord, forgive me.  I’d forgotten what’s important. Make our home a place of peace, healing, and beautiful imperfection.

P.S. I’m using paper plates tomorrow. Aren’t the best parties the kind where the hostess has fun? And she cares about her guests more than her tablecloth?

But the Lord said to her, “My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! Luke 10:41 (NLT)

Love,

Julie