There's a smushed up communion cracker on my stairs.
I keep stepping on it, and the children step on it, and I keep meaning to pick it up, but it's the last on my list of things to do...
We got it at church today.
I gave it to the baby as we headed out the door. It was leftover from this morning's communion.
He was cranky and crying, and I thought a bite of cracker would soothe him as we walked out into the cold and into the car seat that he hates so much.
He brought it all the way home. Clutched in his pudgy hand, he gripped it tight. And let go of it as we walked up the stairs, and I put him into his bed for a much needed afternoon nap.
And I saw it on the stairs.
And we keep stepping on it.
And I need to vacuum it up or at least pick it up, but I just ignore it. Cracker blends into the rug and soon, when it's all crumbs, you don't know it's even there!
And I thought about communion in church this morning. While I held the bread and thought of His body, broken...for me. For my frustration at my computer being ruined (baby spilled water on my laptop this morning while I frantically tried to get ready..), for the lack of patience I had, for that bitterness I have kept inside me for so long that I keep asking Him for help to let go of.
And when we came home, and had lunch, and baby went to bed, and I had a much needed nap, I yelled at my children-- things like: "don't you ever listen?" and "no you cannot!!" and "the laptop does not work! you cannot use it!" And maybe some of my own frustration and bitterness came out at them?
And I took communion this morning and I thanked Jesus for His body being broken for us. And I confessed my bitterness as I always do and asked Him to help me let go of it, and then I drank the sweet juice and washed it all down, washed it all away, and I could breathe, and I snuggled up next to my husband's warm arm.
And then I come home, and yell, and there's that smushed communion cracker on the stairs and I'm stepping on it and not picking it up, but Jesus says, "the work has been done."
And He forgives me and extends much undeserved grace and love to me, not because of what I did or didn't do, but because He loves me.
And I smush that communion cracker more times than I care to admit.
But every time communion comes around, there's fresh bread and fresh juice and it flows and flows.
And so tomorrow I'll start again, and I'll keep praying about letting go of that bitterness and I'll try to speak in gentler tones, and I won't get so upset about a broken laptop because in the scheme of things
There could be worse.
But even if it was worse, I'd be like Job and say, "Though you slay me, I will trust you."
But man, that is so hard to do.
But I will keep trying keep going, because His mercies are new every morning.
And "Faithful Christians Begin Again." That's what we do.
I cleaned up the communion cracker tonight, and the floor's all clean, and I don't keep smushing it, but I keep repeating this:
"Do this in remembrance of Me."