The reason I didn’t continue with my very first blog is because of the temptation to turn everything into a clever little moment. Did the cashier say something funny when I bought some gum? I should blog about it. Did that right-hand turn I made make me think of something spiritual? I should blog about it. It stopped being fun and started being a chore.
I still do this to some extent, but work and marriage and reading provide plenty of fodder these days without having to be overly cute about it. There was one thing this weekend, though, that made me realize that I had been too focused on blogging the moment rather than enjoying it.
At church on Sunday, we had communion, and this time it was by intinction. We got up to get in line, and I thought about taking communion like that – when you step up to the bread and you have to tear off a piece, and you worry about taking too much, and you worry about getting enough to dip. Or, at least I do. And I thought, “Hey, I should write about that, how there’s not one right way to take the bread, just like there’s not one right way to approach God. And he takes us as we are.” Just then, Bill, our bread server, came into my vision, and I realized that he was tearing off the bread for us. Which ruined my entire analogy. I quickly tried to come up with something else, like, “We need each other to get to Jesus,” or, “Service is an important part of the body of Christ,” but then I realized that I just needed to let it go. It wasn’t a blog-worthy moment. And I laughed at myself and tried to ready myself for communion in the time that I had left.
Even though I was mentally all over the place, when Bill handed me the bread, and when Mildred offered me the cup, I still experienced that moment of grace when they looked into my eyes and spoke the truth about these things we were doing: “The bread of heaven.” “The cup of salvation.”
I guess there’s some good news in there after all – we can come to the table even if we’re focused on the wrong thing entirely.
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6 Comments
Yes.
I have experienced the same problem. I am detached by nature to begin with, and I then become more detached as I try to make blog moments out of life. Sometimes you just have to live life, and forget about blogging it.
I just read your blog for the book entries.
I have something for everyone here, Alisa. hehe.
Brilliant post! Last Sunday, I broke my piece of wafer in four (because the sermon was on evangelism and for some reason thought in my head that I would break the paper thin wafer in four for the friends I’m praying for and take the communion `on behalf’ of them sorta of like in faith) and then what do I do? I drop two pieces under the alter on the carpet. (What will I do with my analogy then??) So I quickly crouched down, searched for the missing wafer, and quickly ate the two pieces.
If you were “mentally all over the place”, I was physically so!
Just found your blog today. Very refreshing. I’ll be coming back.