No home cooking for that guy. No Door Dash or Uber Eats either. He never had to ask, “Where are we going?” or “Who’s making dinner tonight?”

Hovering over 2Samuel 9 and the story of Mephibosheth this morning.

He was King Saul’s grandson. Jonathan’s son. Thus, naturally speaking, he was an enemy of the king currently on the throne.

He was also unable to walk, “crippled in his feet.” Living with a guy whose name means “sold” in a place whose name means “not a pasture.” Kind of fitting, I think. A guy so infirm and incapacitated that he’s unable to fend for himself, so dependent that, effectively, he has to be owned by — sold to — someone else. And he’s living, if not in a desert, then on a patch of ground so rocky, weedy, and dried up, it’s unfit for bearing fruit. Beyond that, not a whole lot known about Mephibosheth.

But, if repetition is any indication (and it is), this one thing the Spirit of God wants us to know — He wants us to know where Mephibosheth dined every night.

And Mephibosheth the son of Jonathan, son of Saul, came to David and fell on his face and paid homage. And David said, “Mephibosheth!” And he answered, “Behold, I am your servant.” And David said to him, “Do not fear, for I will show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan, and I will restore to you all the land of Saul your father, and you shall eat at my table always.”

(2Samuel 9:6-7 ESV)

And you shall eat at my table always . . . That’s what I’m chewing on this morning. (Pun intended.)

And in case the reader misses where this enemy by birth would dine each night, it’s repeated again (v.10b) and again (v. 11b) and again (v. 13b).

Where did he always eat?

So Mephibosheth lived in Jerusalem, for he ate always at the king’s table. Now he was lame in both his feet.

(2Samuel 9:13 ESV)

I guess I could noodle on this and imagine what it was like for Mephibosheth to be carried in and carried out of the dining room each night. Somewhat humbling. I could try and imagine how uncomfortable he felt, perhaps, sitting there with all the king’s sons (v.11) — talk about your “one of these things is not like the other.” Somewhat awkward. However, I could also imagine how grateful he must have felt being the recipient of such kindness. Somewhat amazing! I could simply meditate on what should have been a nightly experience of awe and wonder as he considered again the privileged place he occupied because of a promise (1Sam. 20:14-17).

And then, I could take that meditation . . . and make a translation . . . because of the correlation . . . that exists with my present situation and my privileged place at the table of another King, the Greater David, Jesus.

I too have been welcomed at a King’s table because of a promise. Though I was lame in both feet and without strength (Rom. 5:6 NKJV), while I was by nature an enemy (Rom. 5:10), I know what it is to be shown kindness for the sake of Another. For I too always have a place to feed. A feast at which to dine. A table at which I forever have a place.

So, this morning, it’s not just what I’m chewing on that gives rise to wonder but where I’m doin’ the chewin’ that evokes worship. I’m at the King’s table.

Always at the King’s table.

By His grace alone. For His glory alone.