Natalie in the Wild

Sometimes grace is not another invitation to serve. Sometimes it is an invitation to sit down.

For much of my life, I believed that the holiest people were the ones who needed the least.

The strongest served.
The faithful sacrificed.
The caregivers carried.
The helpers stayed standing.

Receiving felt… uncomfortable.

I could bring meals to someone else, sit beside a hospital bed, advocate for a frightened patient, or listen to someone’s story for hours.

Those things came naturally.

But sitting down at the table myself?

That was much harder.

When Grace Becomes a Feast

When I was introduced to the film Babette’s Feast, I realized something.

It isn’t really about food.

It’s about grace.

The people in the story have spent years believing that denying themselves is the same thing as devotion. They survive on simple meals and simple expectations, convinced that holiness means asking for as little as possible.

Then Babette prepares a feast.

At first, they resolve not to enjoy it. They don’t want pleasure to distract them from righteousness.

They intend to endure the meal rather than receive it.

Yet course after course changes something inside them.

Not simply because the food is luxurious, but because love has taken tangible form.

The meal becomes a gift.

And gifts can only be received.

That struck me deeply.

The Difference Between Relief and Nourishment

Over the past year, I’ve been learning the difference between relief and nourishment.

Relief quiets the ache for a moment.

Nourishment restores what has been depleted.

Those are not the same thing.

I’ve spent much of my life carrying a lantern for others—as a nurse, caregiver, advocate, listener, and protector.

I don’t regret that calling.

Caring for people has always felt like part of who God created me to be.

But somewhere along the way, I quietly assumed that lantern-bearers weren’t supposed to stop walking.

I forgot they needed campfires, too.

Church has begun teaching me something different.

Through Celebrate Recovery, friendships, and a community of faith, I’ve begun discovering what it feels like to sit at the table instead of always setting it.

To belong before performing.

To rest before striving.

To receive before giving again.

I’m beginning to understand that receiving isn’t the opposite of serving.

It’s what makes faithful service possible.

An Open Chair

Even Jesus accepted meals.

He accepted hospitality.

He allowed others to care for Him.

He received love as freely as He gave it.

Perhaps that’s part of discipleship, too.

Maybe grace has always looked like an open chair with my name already written on it.

Maybe the table was prepared long before I arrived.

Maybe God was never asking me to earn my place there.

He was simply inviting me to sit down.

And perhaps that is one of the hardest acts of faith for those of us who have spent our lives carrying the lantern.

To discover that the fire was waiting for us, too.

— Natalie in the Wild 🌿