A Big Piece of Communion Bread

Thursday night, I cried.
Friday, I kept it in mostly because we had company.
Saturday night, I cried.
Sunday morning, I cried. Church time, I sat in the pews holding Finn and feeling the gentle way that he rubs my arms and plays mindlessly with my fingers. He turns back and smiles at me every few minutes to watch me singing and every now and then he finds it hilarious to shove his fist into my mouth and see me try to keep up with the lyrics. I love this. I look forward to this time with Finn each and every Sunday, still tears fell.
We sang, ".......God is good, he is good all the time....."
We sang, ".....He can move the mountains...."

And, when those words escaped my heart and poured out of my mouth I felt them. I trembled.
For days I have wept, heaviness on my heart, the ever present tears at home right below the surface of my smile. Nan Ling Ling is turning two years old tomorrow....in an orphanage....while we are here waiting on paperwork. Oh, how that hurts. How it angers and frustrates and weighs heavily.
I have prayed, and yet we wait.
I have sobbed, sending up my heart to the Lord, and yet we wait.
I have surrendered, and yet we wait.
And, it stings like the winter wind on bare skin. It blows and beats against my soul making me feel raw to the core. 
Raw and yet I know that God is good, and he is good all the time.
Exhausted and yet I know that God is good, and he is good all the time.
Angry and yet I know that God is good, and he is good all the time.

As I walked down the isle with Moose in front of me and Jason behind me I felt like I must have been shaking in my shoes. We were taking steps to the altar for communion and physically there was pain for me as I walked forward. Trusting in God's plan, exclaiming 'God is good all the time', reaching out to take the wine, it all took effort. And, yet my body and my soul and my mind wanted to take those steps. My entire being longed to walk that isle and participate in communion with this God, this God who has not forsaken me, or my child.

Moose took his bread first. He had already looked back and asked me when he could watch a movie (gotta love a kids timing). I reached forward and took my piece of bread.  He looks at my piece and then back to his own. Loud and clear, his sweet little voice spoke up. "Mommy, you got a bigger piece. I think you took two!"

I don't know if I hushed him or not. I do  know that I grinned ear to ear.
In my heart I heard a familiar voice, not auditory, and yet so clearly communicated to my inner most being.
"Take two pieces, Katie. Take as much of me as you want. You will never take too much. You can never take too much communcion with me. All of me is yours. Eat. Eat. Eat. Drink. Drink. Drink. I will sustain you."

And, so even though the paper work is going slower than molasses and even though Nannie will turn two years old in an orphanage and even though I still cry at night in the quiet as I lay next to Jason who simply holds me calmly and strongly and even though there is pain in the steps I take daily as I commune with the Lord....even though....God is good and he is good all the time. 

Walking down the isle hurt, but it tasted so good. The laughter tasted good. The whisper of the Lord to my soul reminding me through my five year old that he desires me come to Him, to share with Him, to take as much as I needed...that tasted good.

So, I am. I am taking two. I am eating and drinking of the Lord more than ever before. And, the hurt is ok because it is intertwined with joy, sweet hopeful precious joy.

Nan Ling Ling, our Guinevere, you turn two years old tomorrow. We will have cake. We will sing for you. We will blow out candles and celebrate you. My wish, of course, will be for you to come home sooner than we expect. And, you will come home and then I can give you cake and presents and hugs and kisses.
But, mostly I want you to know this story. This little seemingly insignificant story.
You have had pain in your life that Mommy will never understand. There has been and will be pain for you as you walk forward, as you grow, and as you take and eat the love of the Lord. Take those steps anyway. Reach out for the bread of life, even if it seems difficult. Joy can live and abound and transform even in the presence of pain.

I will tell you again tomorrow, but let me your ever hopeful and eager Momma be the first to wish you a Happy Birthday. You are loved.

This picture was taken moments before Finn had his siezures and went unconcious. I had no idea the fear and pain that was going to take over mere moments from this picture. I took double in the minutes and days to follow his siezures too. And, it was that bread and wine and communion which was a balm to my raw being.
 On this day, this terrible day, God was good.

God is good, all the time.

As we wait, God is good.