I just stand there, grinning much too widely for such a somber ritual. At some points, my feet feel cemented to the floor. Other moments, my legs throw weight side-to-side, swaying to the music and taking in the crowd. For as long as I've been in the church, I've never held the communion bowl before. I don't know what I thought it would be to serve, maybe awkward recitation and the avoidance of eyes.
I know what communion means to me, but not to the long line of souls waiting to partake.
An older couple inches forward, carrying red-stained bread and praying together before placing it reverently on their tongues. A young guy saunters through the line while his friends trail behind him, unsure and small. Most people just file through with an occasional smile or thanks, eyes fixed on the bowl and concentrating as not to drip.
I study a woman as she approaches the table. Hair shorn to the scalp in places, jewelry adorned, and tattoos peeking from beneath her sleeves, she stares at her feet. She's interesting and beautiful. She readies herself to dip a hand into the bowl. "Jesus' blood, shed for YOU," I have to shout through the noise.
It's then that she looks up to meet my gaze. Her eyes are intense; piercing dark and round. They speak for her while words are overtaken by worship in the background. She's listening, but unsure of what to do with my full attention turned on her. Her forehead furrows for a moment and she pops the bread into her mouth. She turns with a nod.
I'm left with bowl in hand, my insides wanting to rush outside to wrap my heart right around her. She's so loved. I hope she senses it. Get her, God, I think, imagining His gentle chase. Maybe she's disclosed in countenance what so many of us who've ever stood in that line have asked ourselves.
I don't get it God. Was it worth it, dying? Am I still worth it after all these mistakes? I'm not sure these dirty hands are even fit to approach Your table.
Even when we don't perceive it, understand it, or we're unable to receive it, He's crazy about us. What we believe and the Truth are often two very different things.
Are you being fooled? Are the voices of doubt chipping away at your trust in His love? I hope you'll join me in meditating on these scriptures this week...confidently approaching the table He set for us with the very life of His son, Jesus.
You belong here.
Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. (Col. 3:2)
Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. (Luke 12:6-7)
But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8)
Don’t you know that you yourselves are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in your midst? (1 Cor. 3:16)
Photo Credit: Misty Pittman
Believer. Wife. Mom. Writer. Marriage and Family Therapist. Accidental Speaker. Crossfitter and Total Book Nerd.
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