On Saturday I sit right here—pouring my heart out one stroke at a time—when he goes in his office and closes the door. I know what this means and I quietly leave my writing—press my body up against the wall and listen. And when those lonely guitar chords drift through the door, I close my eyes and let his music sing to me. He is getting ready for Sunday.
Every Saturday is the same—I get to worship a day early and I stand in awe of my husband’s gifts and the way God has answered this woman’s prayers beyond anything I could have ever imagined. But this Sunday? It’s World Communion Day and my husband prepares special music for the service and I—I am so privileged to be asked to give the invitation to the table. So I do—I say the lovely words my pastor prepares for me—the words I’ve memorized about Christians all over the world celebrating with us this day. Only I get a little tongue-tied when I bring those faces to mind. And I feel the weight of the body as I take it in my hand.
We are in this together, my pastor says.
The world stays in the dark a little longer this time of year and it makes me feel tired and want to eat. The beans keep giving and tonight I comb my fingers through their vines again and glean another pot full of those long green sheaths. The boys are tired of green beans and I’ve put my canner up for the season so I stand at the sink and string them down, thinking of my co-workers who will be treated with these plump pods at our potluck tomorrow. It’s not a fancy dish and maybe they won’t even eat them…but it gives me joy to bring their faces to mind and I smile as I spray down the sink.
We’re in this together.
And I think about communion and how it’s more than a meal and I wonder…isn’t every meal communion? When we sit and eat and open our hearts to each other—isn’t Christ there?
I chop an onion and scrape it into the pot with the beans…add a little salt.
How wonder-full to know that I am not alone.
With my sweet friends Michelle,Jen, and Jennifer:
This is my day 6 of joining the 31 day-ers. They’ve ignited a fire and the flame of their passion is contagious. I know myself too well to say I’ll post every day…but I promise to try. If it sounds inviting to you and you don’t mind coming late to the party (like me), you can read more about the wave at The Nester’s place. She’s the hostess with the mostest.