Journal #3: “The Meal He Serves.”

Eniola Abioye, Worship Leader, UR Dallas

He tore the veil, but sometimes

we experience a veil we must get past.

It is our own veil.

The veil of our expectations, lenses,

what we’ve seen and experienced.


We funnel our desires from that lens.


However, once we see Him rightly,

our paradigms are shattered and

we are drawn into a glorious vacuum.

It isn’t void, it is rich and full.

It is teeming with everything

beautiful, honest, and holy.

It is our home. Where we were made for.


I got to co-create with God, Sunday night.

He was creating and I got to join Him.

Taking on my role as a daughter.

He was setting a table and He was serious about it.

What would happen if we become His slingshots?

We yield to His possession.

We yield to His possession and we say “Yes”.


I believe we would become the “selves”

we have been searching for.

His fullness and luminescence

embers inside our hearts like

hearths in the winter and

we become beacons of

eternity for all people.

We develop His nature.


“Lord, how would you set the table?

Ah, I see. I will copy you.”

Jaws drop and people are in awe.

It is holiness, we are encountering.

It is holiness.

His holiness looks like something(s).


On Sunday, it looked and felt

— it tasted like goodness

and mercy.


I saw in my head this simple wooden table.

He had placed two dishes before me.

He said, “This is goodness and this is mercy.

Try them. You may like them…”


As I ate, the plagues of accusation,

insecurity and frustration, that surrounded

me, at this table — were drowned by

His tender mercies and His lavished goodness.



I was undone.

I was shocked by how liberally, He gave them.

He said, “You have done nothing to earn this;

It is just what I wanted to serve today.”


“It is the meal I want to serve you today.”


I learned — I am learning to ask Him,

daily: what meal are you serving?


He will always show up with something

and it will always satisfy.

It will remind you of who He is

and aide you in seeing Him rightly.

You won’t be the same — though -

after you have tasted the meal He serves.


Never the same.


I have realized that any other ambition now is complete oblivion.

My one aim is to know Jesus and then to share His meal.

The poem has ended, but you can read more stuff by Eniola in her amazing blog: