For Wilshire Baptist Church
It’s not unusual for a guest to be asked to say grace at the dinner table. Awkward maybe, but not so unusual. It can be both unusual and awkward, however, if you’re a Baptist sitting with a table full of Catholics. But for me, it also was a special blessing when Terri Wearden was the one asking.
Terri, mother of my first wife Debra, passed away last week at age 92. A devout Catholic, she welcomed my Baptist ways into her home and her family. I’m not so naive to think she didn’t have some misgivings when her equally devout daughter started dating a committed Baptist. To be honest, it wasn’t what any of us would have planned on our own, but if God truly is in the details as Terri believed, then He had set that table and we were meant to share it.
The first time I met the family, we had a meal together at a restaurant in Waco, and that’s when I first heard them recite in unison their traditional table prayer: “Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen.” It didn’t take me long to learn it so I could join the chorus. But then one day — I don’t recall when or why it happened — Terri asked me to say grace my own way. I’m sure I stumbled and stammered that first time, but on random occasions after that, she would say, “Let’s have Jeff say grace. I like the way he does it.”
Apparently, she found my free-style delivery refreshing. Or maybe it simply was a touch of grace from a woman who knew all too well how it feels to be a newcomer at the table. One of 10 children born to Polish immigrant parents in Milwaukee, she left her home and family to start a new life 1,300 miles away in her husband’s hometown of Victoria near the Texas coast. There, she learned and perfected the ways of Texans, from preparing sumptuous home cooked meals to offering gracious hospitality. By the time I met her, the only giveaway that she wasn’t a native Texan was her Wisconsin accent.
I don’t know anything about Terri’s initial reception in Victoria; I don’t know how long it took her to feel like she fit in. All I know is how she welcomed and accepted me, and asking me to say grace at her table was a big part of that. What she didn’t know — or maybe she did — was my rambling table prayer was embedded with pieces of the prayers I heard given by my parents and grandparents. So, when I was asked to say grace at Terri’s table, I was being invited to share not just my words of faith but pieces of my own life story.
Our stories could have diverged when Debra died, but by then we were family. My visits to Victoria were less frequent, especially when LeAnn and I began spending time together. Maybe God was in the details again on the day I told Debra’s parents and brother about my plans to marry LeAnn. Maybe it was no coincidence that we were sitting at their breakfast table when I shared the news. Again, I’m not so naive to think it wasn’t difficult news to receive, but they offered their blessing in the biggest way possible when they made the long trip to Dallas for our wedding.
Debra’s father passed away a couple of months after that, but I continued to visit with Terri on the phone over the next 10 years, especially on birthdays and Mother’s Day. LeAnn and I drove down together a couple of times, and Terri was as welcoming to LeAnn as she had been to me. Our last visit was on Terri’s 90th birthday, where a long table was set in a banquet of family and friends. It was a time of blessing and celebration for a woman who had always been generous at her own table.
We put off visiting Terri the past year and a half due to the pandemic, but we’ll go again in a couple of weeks to join the family in celebrating her life. It won’t be the same without her at the table, but I’m sure she’ll be listening as we say grace together.
Well done.