It is good that the dinner has faded from the memories of those that were there. It was, on many levels, a great evening. A star chef at the top of his game combined with friends, conversation, and a wonderful view set the stage. The mood as things begin was casual, filled with hope.
The friendly banter moved to the idea that food was best when shared. I went to far to suggest that a house rule should always apply. Anything on anyone’s plate was fair game for anyone else at the table with asking. I could see eyes of curiosity and wonder sparkle around the table.
One to my left turned and said, with a humorous laugh in his voice and twinkle in his eyes, “what is on my plate is mine.”
I took it as a playful reminder that not everyone willingly shares.
Life has lines. My blissful arrogance cost me in the time that followed. I selfishly assumed everyone wanted to share. My naïve premise went on to say that if they did not willingly share, they should share. Turning the “I” to my left into my own “I”, the matter proceeded to get worse.
In a careless act of bad humor, I nicked a portion of his starter. The growl that followed was heard with a framework of humor and fun. It was a similar action during dessert and the response that followed that brought reality to my mythology. I had forgotten the wisdom line; “All who indulge in a sinful life are dangerously lawless, for sin is a major disruption of God’s order.” (1 John 3.4) The dinner’s intent was, for the one on my left, destroyed. I had crossed the line.
The walk back along the shoreline was eerily quiet. I knew there was something that I needed to correct. I had no idea where this would or could go. I know that I could not undo the moments that had passed. They were done. I could do something now if I was willing to go back across the line.
