Resolution, but nothing new

I developed a habit in my sophomore year of college, the year I moved into an apartment with a kitchen and began cooking meals for friends. That habit is one of eating too quickly. During meals, before the company at my table finished their food, I would spring up from the table to either refill water, give second helpings, or bring out dessert. If we were pressed for time, like we so often were with LD dinners, I would start clearing the table and washing dishes while still chewing my last bite. A good friend once remarked to me, protesting, "You're always getting up early to do dishes," and I realized that it was the only time anyone ever noticed--including myself. Truth be told, I can count only a handful a times in which someone served me, so I can't really compare the experience. I'm not sure if this is normal host behavior.

What was born out of a desire to exude hospitality has become something of a strange unrest since moving home. The old habits are still there. Every morning, I spend a considerable amount of time preparing a leisurely breakfast for myself. I love breakfast. I usually grind coffee and brew it, toast some sort of bread or croissant, and peel and cut some fruit. I have everything set out nicely and enjoy it...at first. I find myself always getting up from the table with an unfinished bite in my mouth, rushing to clear the table even if I don't have anywhere to go. In less time than I had spent preparing the meal, I had already left the scene spotless. I don't really know why I still do it.

I've read all the verses in the Bible about feasting at banqueting tables, wedding banquets, and the like. They sound like such happy occasions. But I never imagine myself sitting at the table. I'm always among the waitstaff, whisking away plates and refilling glasses--and not without bitterness and resentment. Is that what being a wife or mother is like? If so, I think I've already fulfilled enough motherly duties for a lifetime. Has it just been ingrained in my being, this inability to enjoy things without feeling responsible, guilty, or restless? I have a feeling that it's not supposed to be this way. That one day I'll realize the worth of sitting still at the table and knowing it's okay to finish chewing.