There I was one Sunday morning, sitting in the local Episcopal pews, not at all sure why I was there, against my husband’s wishes who had said, "There might be fewer divorces if more people stayed in bed on Sunday mornings.”
I had never understood very much about "the Trinity" or the cross or praying to Jesus, and as I read through the Order of Worship for this service in which I was somehow participating, I surmised this was Communion Sunday. Expletive deleted! Communion was among the foremost of religious ceremonies I did not understand. Thus came my Turmoil About Communion. After considerable angst and consternation, I said a simple prayer that went something like this: “Please show me this is real, Lord. I do not want to be a pretender!”
Having said this little prayer, I decided to partake. Then the strangest thing happened as I took communion. For the first time in my entire church upbringing, I experienced communion. In a deeply profound way, I experienced a sense of being with. By taking the wafer and the wine, I realized, I had literally taken God in --internalized Him. It made me cry. It affected my heart.
As the week progressed, I felt as though I was walking down a spiritual road, literally shedding my opinions like rags at various points along the way. By Friday, I felt as though I was, myself, hanging on that cross. My self-righteousness had been crucified. And by Saturday, a new person had arisen within me, who understood, for the first time, the meaning of the word "resurrection."
I saw some Easter lilies in the market yesterday and thought how much they look like trumpets. Suddenly I understood. I understood that I am one of those -- an Easter lily. I am a trumpet -- an instrument of God.
That is how the Lord made me to see that I am His instrument – that is how He came to be my salvation, my strength, my song. Which I have been singing ever since!