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The Party-crasher

Voice of the Kingfisher speaks out  …from a different perspective

                                                          by Elinor Montgomery

The Party-crasher

June 23, 2012

Yesterday was not only a joyous experience, but it was one of those memorable firsts of my life. I crashed a party for the first time, after having called the night before from Kingston, some 260 kilometers away from Toronto, to invite myself for lunch. It was to be a birthday luncheon for two very dear, old friends in the true sense of the word; they are both long-time friends and classed among the elderly.

Now, a ‘night-before-self-invited-guest’ requires a special hostess to smile through gritted teeth as she sees all of her best-laid plans going right down the drain, after just receiving the news that she would have to divide her luncheon serving sizes for seven, among eight. But not so with this hostess! Once she had recovered from the initial shock to her system, there was nothing but evidence of her ever-welcoming, gracious-natured self.

However, then I was in for a shock. It was now Thursday night and, much to my dismay, the party, which I thought was to be on Saturday, in fact, was to be Friday, the next day. When I called, I was in the midst of having a party of my own, of sorts, for six, on that very same Thursday night. I was not sure I could handle it all on such short notice, and still be ready to be on the road, dressed and bearing gifts, by nine in the morning. Once I had quickly made up my mind, then nothing could deter me. I had decided that I would become an official ‘party-crasher’.

It was a long journey there and back for one day, but it turned out to be a very special time, which I would not want to have missed under any circumstances. There was a bit of limping and the occasional shuffling within the group and some talk of possible, upcoming body-part-replacement-operations in the near future; but none of the youthful spirit had been lost, which has always brought this group to gales of laughter.

I regarded closely my hostess, Gwen and my host, Don with great admiration, as I saw a very youthful-looking pair, leading very vital lives, but yet always able to find time to welcome others into their home. In fact, one of Gwen’s friends had exclaimed to her that she needed a new front door – a revolving door for those constant comings and goings of people. One could only feel the love and warmth of this couple from the moment you entered into their home, where they did everything possible to serve you and to make your time with them a memorable experience.

The invited guests included the birthday girls, Dorothy Jean and Donna, both so full of good humor and fun that it has always been a pleasure, just to be in their presence. There was another friend in the group, called Dale, who is very precious to me indeed, and to everyone else at the party, being one of those tireless servants to mankind. And there was Donna’s husband, Bruce, a most jolly and loveable soul who sneezed so hard at lunch-time that we all had to hold on to our seats. And last, but not least, seated beside me was Wes, Dorothy Jean’s husband and my childhood friend from the Crow River, where I spent those lazy, hazy days of summer, about which I sometimes write. I have a really special place in my heart for this buddy of untold years.

Now, who invites oneself to a birthday party to be held on the next day, only to discover that, by becoming the ‘party-crasher’, you have also become a guest of honor, of sorts, at the same time? Hard and all as it is to believe, when two, small birthday cakes, lit with candles, were carried into the room, lo and behold, a third one followed, which also was lit with candles, but had my name written on it. It said, ‘Happy Birthday, Elinor’.  I wondered what this was all about.

“But it is not my birthday”, I exclaimed to them. However, my gracious hostess simply assured me that it would be, for that day. Now, you can see why I dared to be a ‘party-crasher’ in such a home as this, for I had carefully chosen the gates I wished to crash for what would perhaps be the first and last time in my lifetime. They were welcoming gates, within which the inhabitants treated all guests like royalty.

There is only one other up-coming party, the gates to which I would most certainly like to crash, and those are the gates leading to the marriage supper of the Lamb. Do you know that Jesus is the most gracious Host this world could ever know? He is just waiting for the call from as many party-crashers as there can be, who want to be at His birthday party and marriage supper rolled up into one, to honor all of mankind who desire to enter into His kingdom.

They are new, born-again creations, who would like to cross from this life to the next and pass into an eternity with Him. My host and hostess and their party offered only a hint of the joy to come when we attend His party and the most cherished invitation in all of history – the marriage supper of the Lamb, with His bride, the church. It is never too late to find a place card with your name written on it, placed at that very special table where you will be treated like royalty as you are served by the King Himself.

I can only tell you that there will be an even greater treat in store for you than there was for me when I stepped out and decided to pick up that phone and make the call, which, in turn, transformed me into an instant guest of honor. You, too, can call on Jesus anytime and ask to have your name added to the guest list of those who have responded to His invitation, to become party-crashers, who will receive a welcome like that, which awaited me yesterday.

It had been a long day and a long journey, which I had chosen to make, and not without its own difficulties. When I arrived home, I was very tired, indeed, but it was a journey well worth making, and one I will not forget, or have missed for the world, literally speaking.

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