In Bible college, I had really strong theological leanings towards closed table communion theology. By the grace of God, I’ve grown a lot in my understanding of the beauty and importance of communion and the real presence of a memorial that can be profound and exciting. It’s a holy moment. It’s a tangible sacrament that reminds Jesus followers of the centre of their faith.
It’s exciting.
It’s intriguing.
It’s juice cups and crackers.
But that Holy Spirit element makes all the difference.
This past Friday, two of my leaders organised a special worship night that included an optional communion table as a station for young people to engage with. I had the privilege of leading two different conversations with five young people who don’t come from Christian homes about this whole Jesus died on the cross and rose for us and we remember his sacrifice and invitation to reconciliation. Good News.
By the grace of God, I didn’t throw up all night either. I did throw up three times this past week, and my doctor was uncertain of the cause of my cocktail of symptoms that culminated with the vomiting. I’m getting some blood tests done this week.
Spinal cord injuries suck.
But the Gospel.
I’ve had some beautiful moments this week with loved ones near and far praying for my physical recovery and praying over my housing situation. Aslan is on the move, and I can’t help but get excited about that. I will keep putting out my prayer requests here to the masses on the internet, and I have to say how grateful I am for the people who reach out to let me know they are praying for the specifics of my situation.
