Religion says, ‘I obey, therefore I am accepted.’ The gospel says, ‘I am accepted, therefore I obey.’— Timothy Keller
We do not come to God by doing it right, but by trusting that Christ has made it right.— Derek Prince
Over these past days, we have stood before the King’s table and thought carefully about the invitation set before us. We have considered what it means to recognise Him as King, to lay aside excuses, to order our time, and to give our attention to what truly matters. Now we come to a quieter and more tender question. What made it possible for us to be here at all? What opened the way for people like us to sit near the King, not as intruders, but as those who belong?
There is a brief scene in Scripture that answers this with unusual beauty. It is the story of Barzillai and Kimham. It is not one of the most discussed moments in the Bible, yet it carries the fragrance of grace.
Barzillai was an old man, eighty years of age, who had shown remarkable kindness to King David during one of the most difficult seasons of his life. When David was fleeing from Jerusalem because of Absalom’s rebellion, Barzillai had provided for him at great personal cost. He gave when it was risky to give. He stood with the king when others turned away. His loyalty was real.
When the rebellion ended and David was restored to the throne, he remembered. He turned to Barzillai with an offer that few in the kingdom would ever receive. Come with me to Jerusalem. Live near me. Eat at my table. Share in my provision for the rest of your life.
It was more than a reward. It was an invitation into closeness.
Barzillai’s response is what makes the moment unforgettable. He did not refuse out of pride or indifference. He simply recognised his limitation. Age had taken from him the ability to fully enjoy what the king was offering. The music would not reach him as it once did. The food would not carry the same delight. The honour was real, but his capacity to enter into it had faded.
So he made a request. He asked that his son, Kimham, be allowed to go in his place. And the king said yes.
That simple exchange holds a profound truth. Kimham stepped into a place he did not earn. He received a nearness he did not secure. He sat at a table prepared for another, yet fully given to him. Everything that had been offered to Barzillai became his, not by effort, but by grace.
This is not just a story. It is a pattern. It points forward to something far greater. At the centre of our faith stands this same reality. What we could not earn, Christ has secured. What we could not claim, He has given. The place we now occupy in God’s presence exists because Another made room for us.
As Paul writes, ‘through Him we both have access by one Spirit to the Father.’ This is not partial access. It is not distant permission. It is belonging. We are no longer strangers standing at the edge. We are brought into the household.
This changes how we see everything else. We do not approach God hoping to be accepted. We come because we already are. We do not seek to earn a place at His table. We live from a place that has already been given.
This is where the heart often needs quiet correction. It is possible to believe the message of grace and still live as though acceptance must be maintained by effort. We begin to measure our devotion, our consistency, our discipline, and slowly treat them as the reason we remain close. But the foundation is not what we sustain. It is what Christ has already established. Our place was secured before we learned how to seek Him.
In the same way, the rhythms we are learning in this season, prayer, Scripture, stillness, focus, are not efforts to gain access. They are responses to access already given.
Paul expresses this with clarity when he writes, ‘I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.’ He is not striving to be called. He is moving forward because he has already been called.
That difference matters.
Without it, spiritual life becomes heavy. With it, everything becomes rooted and steady. Focus becomes devotion instead of pressure. Time with God becomes desire instead of duty. Obedience becomes love expressed, not approval pursued.
And this brings us back to the heart of this journey, to dwell. To dwell in Christ is to remain in the One who has already welcomed us. It is to live from a settled place. It is to return daily, not to secure a seat, but to enjoy one that has never been withdrawn.
This is what the table represents. A place that is not temporary. A place that is not fragile. A place that is not earned and therefore cannot be sustained by effort alone. It is given. And because it is given, we are free to come without hesitation.
So what might this look like in your daily life?
It may look like opening your Bible without the quiet pressure to perform, simply to listen. It may look like prayer that is honest rather than polished, real rather than rehearsed. It may look like choosing to sit with Him, even briefly, with the awareness that you are already welcomed. It may look like returning again after distraction, not with guilt, but with confidence that your place remains.
Over time, this reshapes the way we live. Like Kimham, we learn to receive what we did not earn. Like Noah, we begin to build from relationship, not for it. Like Paul, we move forward with clarity, grounded in a calling already given.
Let this settle deeply today. You are not working your way toward a seat. You are learning to live from one.
So consider this quietly before the Lord. Have you been relating to God as though your place must still be earned? What would change if you truly believed that your seat has already been prepared and secured?
Lord, thank You for the place You have given me through Christ. Teach me to live from what You have already done, not striving to earn what You have freely given. Help me to draw near with confidence, to remain in Your presence, and to let my life be shaped by Your grace. Amen.