This was almost one of those Sunday mornings. They happen from time-to-time, usually after a particularly grueling Saturday. And it was a full Saturday, not unpleasant by any means, just full. I was tired. So, there I was this morning. My wife was already off to church, due to duties she needed to perform, and I would follow later. Except, maybe not. That’s what I thought. Maybe today would be a good day to skip.
It’s been done before. After all, the past week was go, go, go, my foot hurt and I was doing some writing this morning. The writing was going well and it seemed a shame to stop just to go to church. So I kept going to the last possible minute…. and… then… shaved… showered… dressed and… went to church.
It was there, on World Communion Sunday, I was reminded that there are people all over the world who love Jesus and at some point on this Sunday also are celebrating the Lord’s Supper just like us. I was reminded again that it’s really not about me, but all about God. It was good to be there. I’m glad I went.