At my church in Greenwich, our priest often speaks about the "hour we first believed"- in other words, the moment we first felt Christ in our lives and hearts. For some reason I rarely share about that moment in my life, although it was truly the moment that shaped who I am now and will be forever. Today, on my ride home from church, after a special time of communion- I began remembering in great detail about those incredible moments and felt led to write about them.
As I've mentioned before, I lost my dad back in 1984. He was not a nice man- he really hurt me, (physically and emotionally) until the day he died. When he died I was SO confused--- on the one hand I was grieving what I never had, and on the other I was being told that I wasn't being a good daughter by feeling almost relief from his death. I was also REALLY angry at God. I kept going to church--but flatly refused to take communion!! Fortunately I had a wonderful pastor who sat week after week helping me work through my feelings. There were tears beyond what I could measure- and pain that was indescribable!!
One week we addressed the issue of the communion. We talked about why I didn't want to share in it- and how I transferred my feelings of anger at God into the idea of communion. I don't remember his exact words, but somehow my pastor convinced me to share in Communion with him.
We met on Christmas Eve afternoon (1985), in the beautifully decorated sanctuary of my church. My church (Calvary UMC) is a beautiful church anyway- but at Christmas, with it's poinsettias, candles and nativity-- it's beauty is beyond description!! My pastor and I went to the front of the sanctuary. He lit the Christ candle, and turned on only the light that would illuminate the large cross behind the altar, and then we sat together on the floor directly in front of it.
He began by reading Matthew 18:20-- "Where two or three come together in my name, there I am with them." Even though I was still really angry at God-- I was feeling His presence in huge ways as I heard this. (This is still one of my very favorite scriptures.) We then, talked about what communion is- really God's gift of love to us. After that, we shared in communion-- nothing fancy, just grape juice (we're Methodist, remember) and bread.
At this point-- the tears began to pour out of me. I cried harder than I've ever cried in my life!! All the pain of the past years of abuse, the confusion over my father's death and my anger at God- were finally being released from my hurting heart. Somewhere during my tears, my pastor leaned over to hug and comfort me. But-- I didn't know it was him.... I felt the arms and love of someone stronger, more loving, more comforting--- I felt GOD!!!
The next day I wrote the following poem, which still manages to bring tears of joy to my eyes.
I wasn't looking for the Lord, I simply wanted peace-
to rid myself of pain and hurt and make my anguish cease.
I went inside without a thought the Lord might be nearby.
My grief was real, my pain was deep- all I could do was cry.
My friend and I shared in His bread, and then we drank His wine.
Through this humble meal in which we shared, God shared His life with mine.
I found my Lord that Christmas Eve, He filled me to the brim--
I simply wanted peace and hope....
I found them both in HIM!!
Needless to say, after this-- my life was never the same. It's not to say that my faith has always been perfect or I've avoided pain and difficulty (sometimes I think that the pain of loosing my Mom is going to kill me)-- but I know without doubt that God (even when I've felt unworthy of His love or pushed Him away) has always been with me, loving me unconditionally and protecting and providing for me in ways that only HE can!! To this day communion is my favorite part of worship!! Each and every time I share in this wonderful, Holy meal, I relive that "hour I first believed".
As I've mentioned before, I lost my dad back in 1984. He was not a nice man- he really hurt me, (physically and emotionally) until the day he died. When he died I was SO confused--- on the one hand I was grieving what I never had, and on the other I was being told that I wasn't being a good daughter by feeling almost relief from his death. I was also REALLY angry at God. I kept going to church--but flatly refused to take communion!! Fortunately I had a wonderful pastor who sat week after week helping me work through my feelings. There were tears beyond what I could measure- and pain that was indescribable!!
One week we addressed the issue of the communion. We talked about why I didn't want to share in it- and how I transferred my feelings of anger at God into the idea of communion. I don't remember his exact words, but somehow my pastor convinced me to share in Communion with him.
We met on Christmas Eve afternoon (1985), in the beautifully decorated sanctuary of my church. My church (Calvary UMC) is a beautiful church anyway- but at Christmas, with it's poinsettias, candles and nativity-- it's beauty is beyond description!! My pastor and I went to the front of the sanctuary. He lit the Christ candle, and turned on only the light that would illuminate the large cross behind the altar, and then we sat together on the floor directly in front of it.
He began by reading Matthew 18:20-- "Where two or three come together in my name, there I am with them." Even though I was still really angry at God-- I was feeling His presence in huge ways as I heard this. (This is still one of my very favorite scriptures.) We then, talked about what communion is- really God's gift of love to us. After that, we shared in communion-- nothing fancy, just grape juice (we're Methodist, remember) and bread.
At this point-- the tears began to pour out of me. I cried harder than I've ever cried in my life!! All the pain of the past years of abuse, the confusion over my father's death and my anger at God- were finally being released from my hurting heart. Somewhere during my tears, my pastor leaned over to hug and comfort me. But-- I didn't know it was him.... I felt the arms and love of someone stronger, more loving, more comforting--- I felt GOD!!!
The next day I wrote the following poem, which still manages to bring tears of joy to my eyes.
I wasn't looking for the Lord, I simply wanted peace-
to rid myself of pain and hurt and make my anguish cease.
I went inside without a thought the Lord might be nearby.
My grief was real, my pain was deep- all I could do was cry.
My friend and I shared in His bread, and then we drank His wine.
Through this humble meal in which we shared, God shared His life with mine.
I found my Lord that Christmas Eve, He filled me to the brim--
I simply wanted peace and hope....
I found them both in HIM!!
Needless to say, after this-- my life was never the same. It's not to say that my faith has always been perfect or I've avoided pain and difficulty (sometimes I think that the pain of loosing my Mom is going to kill me)-- but I know without doubt that God (even when I've felt unworthy of His love or pushed Him away) has always been with me, loving me unconditionally and protecting and providing for me in ways that only HE can!! To this day communion is my favorite part of worship!! Each and every time I share in this wonderful, Holy meal, I relive that "hour I first believed".
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