White kitchen table

It seemed silly at first to pray for a table. But it mattered to me. So I prayed about it. “God I want a white table that can seat six. I’d been daydreaming about dinner parties with lasagna and jumbo salads and red wine. I had visions of my friends devouring deserts after long weeks and deep conversations. I wanted this table. I needed it.

I typed up my prayer in my notes app and scribbled it in my journals. I asked out loud whenever I passed by my high top brown table that was occupying the space. It only seated two. I hated it. One day I felt God say “throw it away.” I thought I was losing it. Why would I throw the table away if you haven’t given me a new one? But I grabbed the table and dragged it to the trash chute. I wasn’t using it anyways and I frankly hated the sight of it. If I’m being honest, I also hated the memories associated with it. The difficult conversations that ended in tears and the romantic dinners that had gone awry. I was over the table and the season it represented. So I threw it away.

But now the spot was empty. There was no old table with less than pleasant memories. No new table had arrived. But I kept praying. Occasionally, I’d search online or wander into a furniture store. Nothing felt right. Nothing in my measly budget and nothing that felt like it was truly mine.

8 months later, my oven was acting funny and I had to send a message to my apartment complex to come fix it. When I logged in our portal I saw someone posted “white table for sale”. The date indicated I was a little late in inquiring, but I did anyways. I had nothing to lose. She immediately invited me to come look at it. I took the elevator two floors down and eagerly knocked on her door. She graciously invited me in and informed me that she had four black chairs I could also have but it seated six. I laughed as she led me to the back of her apartment where the table was nestled in the corner. It was regular. Simple. White. Plain.
When I saw it, I sort of just knew. That’s my table. The price was right, I wouldn’t have to assemble it, and it was only two floors below me. This was my table. I told her I’d think about it and I suggested a slightly lower price. What kind of lawyer would I be if I didn’t negotiate a little bit? She agreed and I returned less than an hour later with bundles of bills ready to receive my answered prayer. She helped me load it onto a cart and haul it upstairs. We worked as a team to get it through my narrow hallway and place it squarely in the spot where the old table had been. Suddenly I was grateful that I didn’t have to remove the previous table. I was sweating from all the “physical labor” and I would not want to have to move one table in and another table out at the same time.

I teared up as the kind lady shuffled the chairs around the table and handed me a black table cloth. I thanked her profusely and she hugged me and rushed out. She was so happy to have it out of her house and I was so happy to have it in mine.

I stared at this table and sent pictures to my friends. I was in awe. Out of no where, God blessed me with the exact table I’d been praying for. I sat down in one of the chairs and went on Instagram to see how my latest post was doing. I jumped when I realized my post was a prayer for that day. “Lord, give us eyes to see our answered prayers.”


I, a disgruntled renter, only found out about my dream table because my oven was acting funny and I needed the help of a handy man. This minor inconvenience led me to our apartment portal where I was able to see this table for sale. Do you see it? He gave me eyes to see that my prayer for a white table that seats six was already answered. Granted, it was through an inconvenience that I was able to see my answered prayer. God works in mysterious ways. But I don’t care HOW, I just care that I saw it.

8 months later. He led me to the right table, at the right price, at the right time. To you, it might sound like just another piece of furniture. For me, it’s a fresh start. An invitation into the world of hospitality. An opportunity to create new, sweeter, memories. It’s a God wink. It’s Him saying “I see you and your desires matter.” It’s a dad giving a daughter a gift.

Whatever you’re asking for, even if it seems small or insignificant, is important to God.

Keep asking.

Keep seeking.

Keep knocking.

Even if it’s just a table.



Lindsay Ayers