The More I Seek You, The More I Love You

There hasn't been a lot to inspire writing lately. In a life where sometimes we get caught up in the responsibilities that suck that are necessary and are helping us grow, and we forget to take the garbage to the curb for the second week in a row, we get lost in a pile of bills, the new apartment search is overwhelming, and we drive our 40+ mile commute for the umpteenth time this month-inspiration ends up somewhere in the air above, unreachable.

Then in a moment that is easy to miss if you're not watching, you're given a gift. An arm that reaches down, through the muck of life, pulls you out and it says, "It's okay. I got this."

Last week, on our way home from church I mentioned to Ian that I missed doing communion on a more regular basis. Our church does it as a community less often than LCOP and I had not taken communion since we moved here.

A little background: Our current church has a communion table set up so that anyone can partake at any time during worship each week.

I've never felt compelled to take communion that way. Probably because it's unfamiliar, and I don't like the unfamiliar. Ian looked at it differently. He agreed that it was strange to think we hadn't taken traditional communion, with the bread and juice, as a church family. However, the first Sunday of every month at The River Church is Community Day. That's where we break bread together. We bring food to share and we catch up, enjoying fellowship with everyone. I agreed, thinking it was a good point. But I think we both agreed that it's not so much about the ritual of communion as much as it is the remembrance of what Jesus did on the cross for us and the sacrifice His Father made for us, the undeserving, yet so very loved. 

I thought nothing of it and found myself lost in the myriad of weekday realities once again. Then on Sunday, our pastor began his sermon announcing that today we were going to break bread together because we want to remember the sacrifice made for us. Ian looked at me surprised and I thought to myself, "WHAT A COINCIDENCE!"

So we broke bread together. With our new family. It was unleavened bread and white juice, not the Hawaiian bread and purple juice we are used to, but I didn't care. We were remembering. Together.

As we drove home that day, Ian reminded me what I had said just the week before. I said, "I know! WHAT A COINCIDENCE!"

He said, "I don't think it was a coincidence. I think it was God telling you He's hearing your desires. He said, 'I got this.'

It was a blessing, and a lesson. I almost missed out just by not seeing it. God so desires to bless us. But He wants to be first. He wants our desires to be about Him. I don't think when I mentioned that I missed corporate communion, what I was missing from it. God reminded me. He used that moment to say, "HEY! I want to bless you, but I want you, so don't forget about me!"

So in this weeks pile up of responsibilities, I will remember. I'll remember how much I am loved by The God that sacrificed so much to be near me. The responsibilities and the craptastic life situations don't go away, but I'm seeking to breath in the One that brings me through it, reaching in and pulling me out of the depths of what matters little.