This time Jesus was my homie. Well…he’s always my homie. But allow me to explain.
Last week while I was at church, I dropped my communion. Not the whole thing, just the cracker (i.e. the body). I was trying to open the package and pulled the plastic too hard. It seemed as if the cracker went flying across the room in slow mo, but in reality it was probably a quick tumble to the floor. It just felt like an eternity. I fumbled and tried to catch it without wasting the grape juice (i.e. the blood) on me or anyone around me. After it hit the ground, I even thought, “FIVE SECOND RULE! FIVE SECOND RULE!” I picked it up and inspected it but, of course, couldn’t bring myself to eat it. It was awkward. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to make eye contact with a couple of the ushers and even tried to wave them down a few times, but none of them were paying attention to me. The window for me to get a replacement closed.
I couldn’t help but think the Lord was trying to exact revenge on me from when I may or may not have grabbed three communions a few months back. I mean, I reached in to grab one and my hand may have accidentally grabbed more than one. I may or may not have shared with my neighbor. But that’s neither here nor there. Besides, the Lord is not in the business of “exacting revenge”. But I did wonder for a minute…
I panicked. Then pouted. Then prayed. Then partook. In the blood, but not the body.
Have you been in this situation before? What did you do? WWJD?
Until next time…
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