“Today, it’s the first Sunday of the month, so we will be celebrating Holy Communion.”1
I felt my heart quicken. It had been so long since I remembered to come to the Table.
Too long.
A song for preparation.
Time to speak alone to God, to confess my wrongs, to reach for grace and mercy.
And then the elements were passed.
As the words I knew so well were recited, the tears came.
“Take, eat; this is my body, which is broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”
I was suddenly keenly aware of the most important thing I’d been missing: the cadence of Holy Communion. This simple, embodied act—The Remembering—revealed what I’d minimized.
The entire room was hushed, reverent, expectant.
We were united in faith, united in confession, united in our need.
“This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is shed for you for the forgiveness of sin. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.”
We drank and bowed our heads. Then, we could lift our gaze confidently to the cross, where everything was made right again.
Oh, how I had missed this remembering.
Looking around, I felt connected to the believers around me, heads quietly bent, hands together, as they silently gave thanks. No rushing, just reverence.
Coming to the Table again felt like home. The disordered rhythm I’d accepted grieved me; the return to order left me buoyant. The Remembering flung the door wide open for me to admit how I’d dismissed the warnings my intuition had been issuing.
As I stood to sing, I saw my feet were still on solid ground, and although my house had gradually begun to lean, I was plumb again.
Have you ever found yourself far away from what’s life-giving, from what fills the marrow in your bones? Unaware, or perhaps unwilling to admit, how far you’ve drifted?
Or how long you’d been coasting along, turning your back on what you know deep in your heart is good for your soul?
It’s possible to carry immense gratitude for the past and also be attuned to the ways God is inviting us to go in a different direction.
As I looked up at the cross, center stage, its strength and redemption so evident, I felt my entire being flooded with grace and gratitude. Standing beneath it again, my soul recentered on what matters.
Here, pastor and congregation walk the same path, hand in hand, sharing goals, struggles, prayer, and celebration. Every voice in this faith community is worthy of being heard, including mine. The Holy Spirit’s work in each of us matters, as all members of the body have value.
As we collected our things after church, I smiled at the woman behind us who had remarked, “You guys have been here three weeks in a row. You’re becoming regulars!” When we greeted each other at the beginning of service, she and I had exchanged names.
I was becoming known.
Steady again, discomfort continued to dissipate, and I felt calm, content, and connected. Walking to the car, I noticed the outdoor worship area, set up on verdant grass, gazing at a spectacular mountain range.
What a place to worship on a Sunday morning.
For too long, I’d silenced the knowing. Excuses overran conviction, as I merely prioritized the good I was comfortable with.
Comfort is not the same as healthy.
Thinking back to our face-to-face meetup with the pastor, my heart warmed remembering how he saw us, heard us, and listened to us. He was accessible, transparent, and partnered with his fellow believers as a shepherd.
The church’s mission, developed and supported by the elders and congregation, is a commitment to multigenerational engagement, spiritual growth, and willingness to empower believers to live out their God-given purpose.
We’d not only been missing a dependable rhythm of the Lord’s Supper, but we’d regretfully set aside some of our God-given gifts, experience, and learnings.
But our Father wouldn’t let us stay there.
His timing is always perfect, and He is long-suffering. I can picture Him, knowing exactly what we needed, just waiting. Longing for us to face the truth and make a change.
Often, the absence of what we know is God’s best
becomes a need we can no longer ignore.
The sense of belonging and purpose I’ve been missing continues to return to me in little, meaningful ways.
Today, I attended a monthly women’s gathering. Walking in, this introvert was nervous, opting to arrive early rather than approach a table full of women I didn’t know. After grabbing a seat at an empty table, a lovely woman named J. smiled warmly and sat down next to me.
She and I found many things in common, and by the end of the morning, we’d exchanged numbers, promising to meet up for coffee. The head of women’s ministry and I also connected with plans to discuss where I might be useful.
As we closed, the men, who had prepared the breakfast, served it and cleaned up, all made their way to the front of the room. They had something special planned for all of us ladies.
The words drifted over all, men honoring women, seeing them, caring for them, believers all together.
An integrated community. Opportunities for discipleship. Events, classes, groups, teams - and so much more.
In so many ways, it is becoming home.
Your turn:
Where might God be inviting you to make a change?
Is “good enough” getting in the way of growth?
If you’re not sure about faith, were hurt by the church, or simply drifted away, is there one low-risk step that feels doable?
Father, you never shame us, but are always patiently waiting for us to turn, to admit, to confess, and to bask in the presence of your holy, unconditional love. Thank you for faithful pastors, worship leaders, elders, staff, and volunteers who willingly give so much of themselves day after day. Bless them, Lord. Help us to remember to reinforce our foundation in You. Remind us to trust You when we are afraid to make a change. Show us where you want to transform and heal us, and help us surrender to your will and commands. Thank you for your promises, protection, and provision, especially for The Remembering. In Jesus’ holy name, Amen.
If you’re interested in exploring some new ways of being in God’s presence, I’ve shared some ideas in Sacred Space.
For inspiring songs and downloadable photos + scripture for your phone, go here.
Is fear causing hesitancy? Do Not Be Afraid.
P.S. I will literally jump up and down 🙌🏻 when you click the ❤️ below. 😉
My writing is free here, but if you’d like to support my creative work and send a little encouragement my way, you can buy me a coffee. Your support means the world. Click below ⬇️
Holy Communion: a simple bread‑and‑wine, body-and-blood remembrance of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Practices and frequency vary across Christian traditions.
Ellen, I love how you used that word cadence in relationship to communion. This remembrance of Jesus' death and resurrection and love for us. As humans we need to experienced the grace and love and reality of His sacrifice over and over again.
Thank you for this invitation, friend.
Holy smokes, that was a great one! :) And not JUST b/c you blessed Crossroads, but because your words rang so true. Is it OK, if I share that one with the church? I think it would be an encouragement.
And I continue to flip through my cards, one a day, and am encouraged, not only by the Scripture, but by your photography! Well done.