Communion

Tonight we gathered for the Lord’s Supper at church….it is always a special time for me as a Christian.  A time of reflection, soul searching, repentance; a time of worship in its purest most stripped down form. But tonight it was something different.  Tonight is was something more.

Communion – an act or instance of sharing.

Yes.  Tonight I took Communion.  Actually we.  We took Communion.  My Lord, my wife, my daughter, and I…..we took Communion.

With the beautiful belief and understanding of a child, my daughter recently made the decision to spend her life pursuing a relationship with her Creator. Through accepting the gift of grace afforded to her by the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ she became my sister, now the daughter of the same father.  In the amazing connection that our savior Jesus Christ has with a child, He pursued her….like a shepherd pursues a lost sheep.  Like a father a missing child.  Like a lover to his bride. Like a child to light.

Tonight we sat there together.  Holding hands.  Praying. Worshiping in our own way.

As we prepared to take Communion, I pulled her close and prayed aloud, “Father, thank you for loving me even when I mess up.  Thank you for sending your Son to live a perfect life because I am unable to.  Thank you for the blessing of a loving wife and beautiful daughter.  Forgive me for the sin in my life….for the times when I get angry over the small mistakes that Claire makes…for the times when I spend to much time on the computer and not enough time with Claire….”  And I went on and on.  Confessing sin before my God and my daughter.  I want my daughter to know that I am not perfect.  Just forgiven.  And that by choosing to lay my sin at the feet of Jesus, I am choosing to acknowledge my need for a Savior.

I finished.  She started.

She asked me if it was okay if she didn’t say her prayer of confession out loud.  She held my hand and sat there quietly, looking intently with her eyes closed.  Praying.  Confessing.  For more than a minute or two.  Then grabbed her crayon and went back to coloring.  A time of reflection, soul searching, repentance; a time of worship in its purest most stripped down form.

As we held the red wine (aka grape juice), I told her how I like to look closely at the color and think about the blood of Jesus that was taken but at the same time freely given.  I watched as she held it up to her face and looked deeply into the stain.

With the bread (aka stale cracker) in our hands, I told her how I like to rub it between my fingers and think about the arms of Jesus stretched out wide on the cross in order to allow us to come into his presence.  I watched as she moved it from one hand to another.

Before bed I told her that I enjoyed getting to take the Lord’s Supper with her.  She smiled and said, “Me too, Daddy”.

Communion – an act or instance of sharing.

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