The First Communion

I am having trouble this year with the Easter celebration and its origins. But I can not dismiss Easter all together either. I can not help but being drawn into the first part of the story, the Last Supper or as I have come to think of it, the first communion.

For several days (not in row), I have been reading the about the Last Supper in all four Gospels. While reading, I have chosen to take communion during this quiet time. Nothing fancy, tortillas and grape juice out of plastic cups with cartoons printed on them.

I sit and think and remember what He did for me and for us. I cry every time. I list as many names for Jesus as I can. This helps me retain who and what Jesus is. It is humbling.

I don’t know if you have been exposed to communion at home without ‘supervision’. It is scary at first; because communion is a sacred and holy practice. I heard about doing it at home from Joseph Prince and decided to take the plunge. I meditated and decided that if reading the Bible, praying, seeking, tongues, having God speak to me personally were completely acceptable to do alone; communion shouldn’t be any different.

So the question is, have I changed? Yes and no. For example, if I lose my temper on a day I take communion, I realize it sooner. No, because communion isn’t magic. I still have faults. I still sin. I am like Peter claiming to go to prison or death and at the first sight of trouble I lie and flee.

I love remembering a few days a week what Jesus did for me and the world. It is the most productive thing I do all day long. My hope is to grow weaker so He can be made strong. Nothing good in my life has any “Jamie doing something right” merit. It is by His grace and love for me that I have worth. I pray you seek Him and walk in His favor and wisdom this week.

(Oil Pulling Post will come tomorrow, thank you for being patient!)

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