Lifting up the Tablecloth

“Scars are memory. Like sutures. They stitch the past to me.” China Mieville

It’s been more than 22 years since my ex-mother-in-law sewed together the cushions for her four dining room table chairs. She used a plastic tablecloth with little teapots all over it. Burgundy and green, golden rod yellow on a backdrop of navy blue with black and white stripes. Looking at them in 2024, you would think what a nice 90s pattern before sitting down at the table and noting that the padding in those chairs has seen better days.

In 2002 she gifted the wrought iron chairs and light wood-top table to us when we got married. It fit just perfectly in our tiny studio apartment. In those days the table top was in pristine condition. A pretty, light wood grain like pine. Over the next five years she would go through five moves, many at the hands of kind church volunteers, who threw her in the back of a truck and piled the chairs on top, scratching her surface many times over.

Lifting the tablecloth today I can trace my finger in the grooves of those scratches. I can see the scars left behind from all of the journeys she took to get here today. Some scars are deeper and more significant than others.

I remember the days just before our divorce when we divided our earthly possessions and she was up for grabs. Now situated in the first home we had purchased together, I couldn’t imagine my space without her. Pushing back on my soon-to-be ex-mother-in-law, I held strong and managed to hold on to the table we had spent so many meals around over the years.

Today she’s still with me in my new home, a state away from where she originated, and still covered in a tablecloth to prevent her scars and scrapes from being seen. She fits perfectly into my dining room nook, a sign to me that she was meant to be here. She reminds me of where we’ve been, God and I.

The grief of divorce ebbs and flows as time moves on, oblivious to the scabs that fester and eventually turn into scars. Long, jagged lines mark the heart places where two kids became one flesh and then were torn apart. These are wounds only God truly sees and heals. When God lifts up the tablecloth I use to cover my scars, he sees the hurt, shame, and struggle beneath.

The book of Psalms gives us a glimpse of the pain David held as he imperfectly pursued a perfect God and laid bare his emotions. These echoes of our hurt and despair reverberate in our hearts as the Great Physician begins the work of tending to our wounds.

In Psalm 147 the people have just returned home after years as captives to the Babylonians. Nothing in their world is the same, and yet God remains unchanged. They are wounded- he is present- and so they praise him.

The Lord rebuilds Jerusalem; he gathers Israel’s exiled people. He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds. Psalm 147:2-3

The process of healing and bandaging is not one of instant completeness, but an ongoing repetition of God’s ability to put back the shattered pieces into a cohesive, redeemed version of who we are.

Unlike my scarred dining table, my wounds are tended to by the one who continuously heals. Each day I turn my face to the light and absorb the rays of hope that reign down upon me. Every year I peel back the tablecloth over my heart and see the scar- still present- but soothed by the Savior’s balm and I know I am becoming transformed by his healing hand.

He too bears scars- and they are good.

As Fanny Crosby said in her famous hymn,

I shall know him, I shall know him

When redeemed by his side I shall stand. 

 

I shall know him, I shall know him

By the print of the nails in his hand.

Amy Boyd is passionate about supporting women surviving the unexpected life-changing divorce. By day she teaches reading and by night she entertains her high-energy terrier. Living in Michigan, the Great Lakes are a balm to her soul. Amy enjoys a rosemary latte and a good book. Follow her writing at her blog, substack, or on Instagram. 

Subscribe to receive the weekly Stories from the Supper Table post in your email and download this free resource, 32 Printable Conversation Cards. These cards feature questions hand-selected to encourage lively conversation and build connections around the table.

Do you have a story of your own to share? Check out this post to learn more about the heart behind the series and the link for submissions.