We’re heading into what is called the most wonderful time of the year, but the truth is… we’re also entering one of the loneliest times of the year. That can feel impossible to imagine when your calendar is full — family plans, Friendsgivings, kids’ programs, church events, and a dozen other things that fill your schedule (and your group text).

But for a lot of people, this season isn’t full.
It’s quiet.
And often, painfully so.

Some don’t want to ask for an invite because they feel like they’d be intruding on your family traditions.
Others are battling mental health struggles that get heavier during the holidays.
Many simply don’t have a place to go — or a person to ask.

And every year around this time, I think about my parents.

There is one Thanksgiving I will never forget.

Growing up, my parents always made room for “one more" on Thanksgiving.
My brothers and I hated it.

One year in particular, my dad — who was a pastor — said, “There’s a guy coming for Thanksgiving. He just got out of jail.”

"A criminal?" we all shouted. "At our table?"

My brothers and I were nervous. But here’s what happened:
The man walked in, and he was kind, grateful, and genuinely thrilled to be sitting at a family table. We ended up having one of the sweetest Thanksgiving dinners we’d ever had.

Because he wasn’t just another seat to fill.
He was a person who needed reminding that he wasn’t forgotten.
That he wasn’t beyond grace.
That he was welcomed — fully and without hesitation.

Just like God does for us.

But now that man who came for thanksgiving is still a family friend to this day. (And yes… he did steal my mom’s Tupperware. I warned her not to send it with him because we were never going to see it again:)

What My Parents Taught Me Without Saying a Word

They were modeling something deeply biblical:
We should be available to those who need to be reminded of the love of Jesus.

Jesus was available. He made time and room for those who society often forgot about.

Let this Thanksgiving be your reminder that God is the One who looks at us — with our failures, our mess, our “just got out of jail” moments — and says:

“Pull up a chair. You belong here.”

There is always room at His table.
Every time.
For everyone.

So This Thanksgiving, Let’s Ask a Simple Question,

Who needs a seat at your table?