I wrote this a couple years ago but never shared it. It was a little raw and rough at the time:
I’ve been full of fear lately. My kids are struggling. It’s more than that – they are suffering from loneliness. It’s not like I want them to fit into this crazy world, but I long for them to have connection. Some days this completely breaks me.
2 nights ago, I couldn’t settle down. I went for 3 things that might bring me a little quick comfort – bread hot from the oven, a goblet of red wine and Netflix (yep, I’m super healthy and self-actualized).
I grabbed half a loaf of hot french bread and my wine and headed for my room, but before I could get Netflix loaded, I just lost it. Sobbed and screamed into a pillow and asked God where He was, if He was. Then I ripped off a hunk of that delicious bread and took a gulp from my goblet… and He was there. I can’t explain exactly what that felt like, but I knew Jesus was right there in that room with me.
Take this bread, my body, broken for you. Take this wine, my blood, willingly given for your rescue, for your heart and your connection.
Jesus stands with us in emptiness and despair and offers us not a solution, but his deep and abiding presence in every type of circumstance.
That night, I had communion with God in a way I never had before – holy, human communion. I raised my fists fighting, and He took that as an opportunity to wrap loving arms around my aching body and bruised heart. My confusion met with His peace. My sorrow collided with his boundless compassion.
“…in the Eucharist you have the most amazing symphony of complete presence based on the ultimate absence and the ultimate kind of emptiness.” ~John O’Donohue, Walking in Wonder