On the first and third Sundays of the month, in our country church, we make our way to the altar to take communion. This is where we meet our Lord and commune. We know He is there and we gather together to bow, eat of the body and blood, and receive forgiveness of our sins. In our faith we believe they are not symbols but actually Him.
On occasion, I am fortunate to see a glimpse of something I view as a true blessing. It always makes my heart flutter and feel full. A small child looking up as their parent takes communion. The littlest child witnessing something quite substantial. The small one probably thinks it’s just what mommy or daddy do in church, but in honesty it’s a gift. It’s a gift we have been given and the gift is being shown. One day the small one will do the same. They can eat the bread and drink of the cup that offers so much.
I didn’t grow up in a family that attended church, in fact I was not baptized until I was 23 years old. I look to the altar now, with this particular view, and think how very fortunate that little child is. They may not know how lucky they are just yet, but I do. I know the gift their parents are giving. The example and instruction being offered. The true gift is Jesus Christ and his sacrafice but those parents are giving a gift as well.
I attend church with quite a few that were “born and raised” Lutheran-Missouri Synod, my husband being one of them. I also attend with those, that like me, have joined the LCMS after marrying or on their own at some time in their life.
My husband and I have discussed often how it seems my “appreciation or excitement” of God’s gift is shown outwardly more than his. It’s not that I’ve been given anything different than him but we assume, it’s because I went without the teaching of God’s Word while growing up.
There have been many times in my life that I have felt I missed out on so much not being raised in God’s Word. The result is my ever growing need to share, as an adult letting others know of His promises. I’m far from confident in my process, I’m still that sinner, but I know the truth, the light, and the way.
I did not choose God. God chose me. No matter what I do or say I did not accept him into my heart, He was there of his own doing. My good works can not make Him love me more or get me any closer to Heaven. My sinful ways are forgiven because HE chose to send his Son so very long ago to die for ME (and you and others).
Whether appreciative is the right word or not, I do know that I feel very lucky. I feel my heart swell and my drive to share the word grow even more each time I commune. I also feel extremely loved.
The life I have been given is just that. It has been given to me. I know I am blessed to be among those that have been baptized by the Holy Waters as an infant and by those that were done later like myself.
As you sit in the church pew, this coming Sunday during worship, do me a favor. Take a gander to see what makes your heart swell and witness grace where one or two are gathered. I’m sure it’s there. Then come back and share with me please. Let’s build a mountain of memories in God’s Word. Let’s share what we know with others that come across this blog post. Thank you.
Grace is a gift,