Tasting Grace

I love attending a liturgical church. And I love receiving the Lord's Supper every week. That meaning of that ritual sinks deeper and deeper into my soul each time I come to the table, although I still feel that I understand what exactly happens in the Eucharist so little!

Today was one of those days that I felt like I really "got it" -- that just for a brief second, I understood the power of receiving the consecrated elements. It had been one of those Sunday mornings where the cares of the world just refused to stop following me around the sanctuary, bouncing on my shoulders and poking me in the mind so that it was hard for me to enter into worship, even while leading the music. But when it came time for me to receive the bread and wine up in front with the other musicians, something quietly extraordinary happened.

It was as if during the whole service up to that point, I had been seeing and moving through a viscous liquid that held me back, but when the bread was offered to me with the words "This is the body of Christ, the bread of heaven" and the priest's eyes looking directly into mine, suddenly the air around me was pure again. "Lord, I receive you -- all that you desire to give to me, all that is mine already in Christ -- Lord, heal me, strengthen my faith, fill me, thank you." The communion bread was sweet, soft, a slightly larger morsel than usual -- today, I could literally taste the Spirit speaking, "See? I do not skimp on the gifts I give to you. Taste my grace. You do not need to plead with me for crumbs. Receive my healing." And the communion wine, offered to me by the catechist, had never tasted so wonderful to me as it did today.

Truly, truly we sang, "Taste and see, taste and see the goodness of the Lord."

Growth Pains

All the thoughtful people I know tend to generate their brilliant thoughts under different conditions. For some, the shower is the place of epiphanies. For others, perhaps the library (although I'm not convinced). As for me, I tend to have major revelations while on walks or jogs. Somehow the combination of activity, music, and solitude just plain helps me think - and I highly recommend it!

Well on my walk today, I was visited by a metaphor, a metaphor that captures what I have been experiencing this summer: emotional chemotherapy. Sometimes our own "junk" surfaces in such a way that we see just how sick we have been. For me, this summer has proven to be a time of recognizing some things about myself that need to change in order for me to be healthy. Now the fixing of these things, the "treatment" has been pretty painful at times... at least within my own microcosm... and hence the chemotherapy metaphor. Sometimes becoming healthy requires a heck of a lot of pain or even just discomfort - but it is worlds better than embracing the cancer and feeling it strangle your body. Pain of personal growth, of old unhealthy things dying - now that's a pain that's worthwhile!

I am hoping that this round of treatments is almost over for me. But if this particular cancer remains hidden somewhere still in me, I will take my medicine with hope.

Watchful for the Muse

Whoa... I forgot I posted that last poem. Kinda intense, even for me... and I wrote it!

Well, as you might suspect from that last post, it's been a bit of a difficult summer for me. Lots I'm thinking through and sorting out, and some key areas in which I'm trying to grow. All that to say, I haven't found it easy to blog lately - but I'm hopeful that the Blogger's Muse will come to visit again soon.