Yes, it was true. Through time, without my faith being all that strong, God has set up a dinner table. On it were material blessings, more than I had ever dreamed could come our way.

And there were friendships made with new people, many of them proving to be beautifully sound and rewarding. The more my mind ticked their names off, the more I understood myself to be one of the nouveau riche of soul.

There was also the discovery of my family again. Before the rat race had shuttled them aside to make way for busyness and spinning wheels that got nowhere, though I refused at the time to admit it.

On the table was also the simple life. How complicated the daily routine had become back then. But through the betrayal, and the rearranging of so many priorities to breathing had come the simplicity of everyday things -- the cool sheets on winter nights, a piece of newly warmed toast at breakfast, my little girl's foolishness.

But more. The table was full. One of the most precious foodstuffs proved to be a more determined trust in the Father, knowing Him to be there when "He wasn't." There came to the fore a conclusion that no matter what happened henceforth, I would believe an eternal integrity to be at work for my good and His glory.

So it was that when I got a letter from a friend in which he said, "We have decided that regardless of circumstances, we will not allow any of life's experiences to silence the song of praise and thanksgiving in our hearts," I could more than identify with that. And it was more than a nice ending to a friendly letter; it was bedrock truth on which one could live and die.

From time to time, I still look up to see my enemy. But I have no revenge, no wanting to get even, no malice toward him. I see him there on the other side of the table, and now I want to invite him to eat with me.

In fact, just the other day I tried to get in touch with him, but he has moved and I don't know where he is now. I wanted to talk with him just for a second or two and tell him that all is all right. I hold no ill feelings.

I could not have done this a few years ago. It would have been impossible. It simply was not in me. Yet without my being aware, God was putting it in me as He prepared the table. In time, I would see it. And feeding on it, I would be strengthened.

For years I have preached on the Shepherd's Psalm. But when I came to the banqueting in bad company, I stuttered. What could I do with it? With its perplexity came, however, a marvelous enticement to figure it out someday. After all, the imagery was too tantalizing to let go, to ignore.

But it would have to be another time, another place, another stage in life. So it was that in God's timing, he saw to it that now I can begin to get hold of it, certainly not fully, but better than before.

It must be a bit what Desmond Tutu feels today when he holds the Nobel Peace Prize in his hands, So often he had had whispers that it would come his way, but it didn't.

In childhood, he lived with daily put-downs, being treated as less than a white-skinned creature. In teen years he stared the injustice of it all in the face, yet chose to follow Jesus against all odds. In young adult years he became an aggressive voice for nonviolent thrusts against South African prejudice.

There were so many foes to conquer, so many noises to silence, so many blacks to equip for the long run. Yet through it all, God was preparing a table. It started when Desmond was a young man, looking up one day to see a pastor -- a white man -- tip his hat at his black mother. This? Yes, this.

Later, when Tutu was hospitalized due to tuberculosis, this same white minister visited him for 20 months -- daily. This? Yes, this.

Where was God when hypocrisy paraded on every side within and without the church. Where was justice when black people were leveled every day? Where was the work of the eternal kingdom when earthly powers of selfishness strutted across the stage of history?

God was there. He was setting the table. And one of those servants helping to place the plates was a white pastor by the name of Trevor Huddleston. In time, Desmond would come to see it. Enemies on every side, yes. But so the contradiction would be realized in all its glory. The table would be full and the whole world would be invited to partake of its splendor.

It was in time that the God of time worked His meal for the feeding of His child. The injustices would be asked to come to see. And the children of the kingdom would eat.

Can you believe it? If not, don't worry. The matter that matters most is that you are His child. His integrity of loving mercy will see you through. Just hold on. Whether or not you can make out the form of it all is not what is important. What makes the difference is a God who stays true to His own. In time you will see it. In time you will sit yourself down and feed on its truth.

May this be some comfort to you in the meantime.