The bread and the cup

*for my dear friend Dannielle*



She sits in stillness. Only the strumming of a quiet guitar is heard and even it’s sounds are muted and worshipful. She has done this many times in her journey. She turns the small cracker over and over in her hand. With each turn of the bread, she asks forgiveness. When she can no longer think of a sin, she begins to ask Him to tell her of the “forgotten ones”. So fearful of angering the Father and taking this holy sacrament without being worthy, she forces her eyes closed and again asks Him to reveal sin. When silence comes she repeats her confessions over for good measure. Small tears form in her eyes and she whispers to Him, “I want to be worthy of this.”

And for the first time during this holy moment He bends low, in the middle of a crowded sanctuary, stills her trembling hand and whispers, “I’m worthy. I’m enough”. She looks up startled. He chooses to speak these love words when she is surrounded by so many, yet she knows the words are for her alone. Slowly, as the warmth of The Spirit spreads over her like rays of warm August sunshine breaking through the last three days of foreboding clouds, the message of love is clear.

Communion, the feasting of the saints, is not a measure of worth. Not her worth anyway. She is a mess at best. It is a picture of what He did to make her worthy through the Son. The worth of the Son. The cup is a beautiful shade of crimson and it reminds her she can stop asking for forgiveness and celebrate that she is living in it.

She grips her palms together and bites her lips. She stifles a shout that is making its way up from the deep part of her soul. Inside, she sings and dances as those around her solemnly bow their heads and search their hearts. She taps her feet and forces herself to stay seated and not run down the aisle leaping in the knowledge that this very ritual is an expression of His great tender care.

All this time, He has been preparing a table full of bountiful blessings. He waits so expectantly to welcome her home. He cannot wait to see her face to face. And today He decided to tell her today, here in this place how much he misses her. He reveals to her searching heart that the answer is not found in her worthiness or confessions. It is a beautiful picture of His overwhelming lavish love.

No longer able to suppress the joy, a giggle bubbles up and out and her husband gives her a sideways glance as if to say, “What in the world?” She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. Her Abba never stops surprising her. The Father chooses a the most beautiful ways to tell her He loves her.

And as for her, she cannot wait to celebrate the bread and the cup again. From this day forward it carries the most tender of meanings for her. A celebration.




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