Dillusional Anonymity

So I found out this week that there are people who know my blog address that I didn't know knew my blog address.

Which is fine.

But a little shocking, because I like to think for some reason, that I'm writing to a defined group of people when I make my entries. And this morning I found out that the group may be bigger than I thought.

I don't mind it being read. After all, this whole blogging thing is a pretty public forum. But in my head, it's sort of private, because I like to think I know who's been here. In reality, I don't, except by the name of your ISP, or by your location - which doesn't really tell me much in most cases.

As I've stated before, I'm not sure why anyone wants to read about my thoughts on this little thing I've got going here, but I'm thankful for those of you who come, and comment, because it pushes me to write. And writing is always good for me. It's through writing many times that I'm able to process thoughts I sometimes haven't even formally recognized... does that make any sense? I love the way stuff flows when I write, so I'll keep doing it.


Church this morning was great. Asia was off doing his social butterfly thing, then came to sit down next to me when the music started. He leaned over to me and whispered "Asher asked us to serve communion," all matter-of-factly, like it was no big deal. My heart immediately started thumping. See, at this church, when you serve communion, you are face to face with people as they file past you. Each person goes up to the front, where a couple each holds either the bread or the wine (juice.) First they tear off a piece of bread as the server says "The body of Christ, broken for you," then dips it in the cup of juice while the other server says "Christ's blood, shed for you." It always feels very intimate and individual and is always extremely meaningful to me. I just wasn't sure if I was ready for that kind of intimate service yet. But he'd said yes, and we were going to do it.

All I can say is I'm so thankful for the experience. It was so healing for me to look into the eyes of each of those people as they dipped their bread in the cup I held and remind them of Christ's shed blood. To remind them of God's sacrifice. To say it over and over and over again cemented in me the beauty of the gift of Jesus' shed blood. It was intimate and beautiful. And I made it through, not crying this time, but instead with a huge smile on my face. I literally couldn't wipe the smile off as I spoke those words over and over. I felt God's love pursing through me. It's an experience I will not forget and which I hope we can repeat.

I want to look at all people with that kind of eye contact - and with that affirming smile. To remember that the ultimate sacrifice of Jesus on that cross was for ALL people - for my neighbors and the mailman and the checker at Walmart (and even all the droves of people standing in line with me there)...

I've taken communion hundreds of times in my life and have never grasped the personal, deep deep love of God the way I did this morning.

I'm so thankful.

Jesus shed his blood just for you.

And for me.

Remember.