Prepared

It’s the Sunday before communion at my church, and that means it’s our preparatory service.

A time for each of us to evaluate our relationship with God and to share the results of that soul-searching with our church family.

 

I love preparatory service.

 

I marvel at the people who speak their hearts in a calm and clear voice.

I marvel even more at the people who speak their hearts in a quivering voice.

I grow more and more jittery

And I rehearse over and over in my head what I am going to say

Until it is well-nigh memorized.

 

I am going to say something about how

 

The message and the Sunday school lesson affirmed one thing that God has been teaching me lately, and that thing is that sin is sin is sin is sin. I am too quick to dismiss my personal sin as just “bad habits” or “areas that I need to work on”, when really, it is sin. Awful, ugly sin. I often think that I can fix these things myself by just making whatever changes need to be made. But when I do that, I deprive the Gospel of its glory and its power. I miss out on the beauty of turning to Jesus to repent and receive grace. I want to live out of a reliance on Jesus’ grace, rather than my own self-discipline.

 

Or I could maybe say something about how

 

This week I prayed and asked God for something, and he sent me three small answers to my prayer. The beautiful thing is that although these three things were small, they can all be grown and developed. They are beginnings, and beginnings are gifts.

 

Or

I could read Hebrews 10:14 and try to explain how I just do not understand it. It blows my mind. In the best of ways.

 

I think these things through and through.

 

But when it is my turn to speak,

I stand up,

And I say,

 

“I have peace with God

And with my fellow man

And I’m looking forward to communion.”

 

Just that.

It’s true

 

But it’s not everything.

It’s not the whole story.

 

I knew that was what would happen.

It’s certainly not the first time that something like this has happened.

 

I felt relief when I chose it,

But also grief.

 

Why do I always have to bring so very much of myself to everything I do?

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