The Christmas decorations have been carefully packed away
and the annoying elf has gone back to Santa (i.e. back in his box). The house is looking empty but I am finally
able to sit down and breathe.
Sunday morning I went to church. I asked the family to join me but they had
made other plans while I was at an exercise class (insert shock here) so went
by myself. I will confess that when I go
alone, I am tempted to skip altogether. I have used the time to write or read
or just sit and think. I figure God understands this precious time and is okay
with it. I worship in my own way but
this week I went to the service; something called me there.
The opening music was beautiful and I wished my parents were
with me to hear it. Mom has always loved
a good church choir. Then I noticed the
“Stuff” on the front table that revealed the congregation would be “breaking
bread” today. My first instinct was to
plan my escape before communion started to avoid the longer service but something
stilled my mind. I was not snapping my
fingers at the kids to get them to sit, I was not having to give approving nods
at all their drawings or divvy up the M&Ms that have become a requirement
before the service. I was on my own and
for today another’s hunger pains did not dictate my church schedule. So I sat
and took it all in.
The sermon was about the “in-betweens” we have in life; the
moments we are waiting for something to happen.
The minister told a story about going to watch an orchestra once and
arriving a bit early. He heard someone
was tuning an instrument, saw someone was studying the score and someone was
playing a beautiful piece of music. He
thought to himself that must be her solo, her chance to shine. The seats around him began to fill and the
theater’s lighting went dark then to a dimmer light than prior signaling the
concert was about to begin. He noticed
the orchestra was now perfectly still awaiting their conductor, no movements
seen or heard. His companion commented,
“now all there is to do is wait.” His
clever summary was this: in our everyday lives some of us may study His coming,
some of us may practice our talents, and some may tune our selves in various
ways like learning, exercising, etc. but we are all waiting for the next thing
to happen in our lives and what we do while we are waiting matters.
So there I sat debating on if I should sneak out and get my
alone time when the deacons rose to get their serving plates. Normally, the congregation fills the aisles
and walks down front to receive the bread and wine but today was
different. The deacons walked the aisles
and passed the bread as they do the offering plates. In watching this change of routine I missed
my window to leave and realized I did not care.
I felt like I was where I needed to be.
An older man approached my pew and leaned in with the bread. I broke off a piece and looked up to smile at
him and say thanks but before I could he looked me in the eye and in a baritone
voice said, “this is the body of Christ given for you.” He was so serious and the gravity of the act
we were partaking in struck me. Tears
filled my eyes, the intimacy of communion was clear. I wasn’t aware of my craving for that level
of intimacy with my faith but it was real and I was fulfilled with the Holy Spirit.
Last year was not an easy one for me in some respects. As the days of this New Year reveal
themselves I am hopeful for what could be and what is to come. I pray the in-betweens of my todays and my
tomorrows are filled in purposeful and positive ways. I do not want to count the minutes between
sunrise and sundown because I only want the day to end, for the noise to stop
and for life to give me some reprieve from the stresses I carry. I hope I keep my courage to continue
practicing, studying and tuning myself to be a better whole person not the
fragmented person that I found myself to be at the end of 2014. On Sunday, a soulful voiced messenger
reminded me the body of Christ is in me and is a constant companion. Today I am trying to let him carry the load
for a bit and give my back a break. Our
relationship is a work in progress.
