There’s something about the Lord’s Supper…
Jesus. The cross. The blood. The body. Remembering the sacrifice.
And my debt.
Forgiveness. Mercy. Grace. Thankfulness.
It fills my heart as I stop and remember the meaning of the Lord’s Supper.
I watched the deacons of our church move quietly among the people of the church.
Quiet. Strong. Selfless men. Servants. Serving their church.
It reminds me of the disciples and what it must have been like when they served alongside Jesus… passing bread and fish perhaps…
I passed the plates, taking the bread and the juice. And looking over to see little fingers reaching up, too. Blessings. Even in my sin He loved me. He called me. And He has called my children, too.
My heart is full. I remember. I am humbled.
Thank you, Jesus.