Carried to the Table

A tear falls down the young man’s cheek. Looking down at his twisted, worthless legs; the young man cries out, “God, why have you cursed me like this!? First, you gave me these detestable crippled legs, then you took my father from me! God, he was my only hope! He was going to make me king someday, but now I’m just a crippled orphan. What if the new king kills me because of my family line? God, I beg of You-I can’t survive on my own. If You won’t take me in, then who will!?”

Soon thereafter, the young man is summoned into the court of the new king. Shuddering with fear at the thought of his imminent death, he shuffles at the king’s feet. “Mephibosheth,” said King David, “don’t be afraid. I’m taking you in. Everything that your father had will be yours, and you will remain here in my courts for the rest of your life.”
“But King,” said Mephibosheth, “I am nothing of value. I’m just a cripple! You can’t show kindness to somebody like me!”
King David replied, “I am making you valuable again. From this day forward, you will will always eat with me at my table.
The king rose from his throne, knelt down, and took Mephibosheth into his arms. He carried the young man to the lavish table, pushing the crippled legs under the table and out of sight. King David carried Mephibosheth from rejection to acceptance.

I once was crippled by sin and abandoned by all that I loved the most. Though the King had every right to condemn me to death for my imperfection, He chose to leave His throne, kneel down into my lowly ground, take me into His arms and carry me to His lavish table because I couldn’t get there myself. Pushing my crippling sin beneath His perfection, He gave me everything that He is so that I could eat with Him. He took this lowly, crippled beggar and made me royalty!

Are you still crippled? There’s a feast awaiting . . .

Wounded and forsaken
I was shattered by the fall
Broken and forgotten
Feeling lost and all alone
Summoned by the King
Into the Master’s courts
Lifted by the Savior And cradled in His arms

I was carried to the table
Seated where I don’t belong
Carried to the table
Swept away by His love
And I don’t see my brokenness anymore
When I’m seated at the table of the Lord
I’m carried to the table
The table of the Lord

Fighting thoughts of fear
And wondering why He called my name
Am I good enough to share this cup
This world has left me lame
Even in my weakness
The Savior called my name
In His Holy presence
I’m healed and unashamed

You carried me, my God You carried me
-Carried to the Table, Leeland-