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.