New Life

Yesterday was such a happy day, that at the end of it I had to go outside and sing to God because I was about to burst. He has just filled my life with good things. New babies and rain and a church body to love and intergenerational friends and most of all His Body, broken for me, and His Blood, shed for me.

In the morning, we went and picked up Bronwyn and Clarky because their little brother was being born. When we got to the house we found out that he was already here! We carted off Bron and Clark anyway and enjoyed them all day. We had dear friends over for lunch and played Balderdash and Boggle. So. What do you think the real definition of "wedeln" is?

1. A bird that nests in the crevices of cliffs
2. An iron pot handle
3. A skiing technique
4. A mug
A Swedish petticoat

I dare you to guess. These were the definitions we came up with, but one of them is actually correct! And you're going, "who made up this word?"

When we took Bron and a very sleepy Clark home in the evening, we got to see and hold the new baby. His name, till further notice, is "We Don't Know Crowe." Holding him was miraculous. I could hardly breath; I wanted to cry. This warm, frowny, eight pound bundle is a little boy who's going to grow up and toddle around and run and play and learn to read just like the rest of his brothers. He's going to grow up into a great big man who loves Jesus and maybe share the gospel in Ukraine. He's real and he's beautiful and I get to hold him in my arms and watch him grow up. I have very strong "Aunt Cassie" feelings for this new "Croweling" already.

The best part of the day was communion. It's, sadly, strange for me to say that, because I've never truly appreciated communion. It's always been sort of a ritual that seemed solemn\borderline embarrassing because you have to walk up to the front of the church, etc. I try to not feel that way, because of course I love Jesus and I'm thankful for His sacrifice for me, but its just been an awkward thing.

Well, that all changed yesterday. I feel like a brand new Christian in some respects! Pastor Bud asked me to help serve communion. That's a new thing for our church and I hadn't helped do it before, though other youth had. He explained that we would hold the bread and juice, and people would come by in the line, each taking a piece of bread and dipping it in the cup. As they took the bread, the bread holder would say "the Body of Christ, broken for you," and as they dipped their bread in the juice, the cup bearer (I like that phrase!) would say "the blood of Christ, shed for you," while looking each individual in the eyes. Now I'm telling you- if I was nervous about going in a line up to the front to take communion, I was definitely quaking over serving it like that, and looking people in the eyes. Maybe it's my age, maybe my background, maybe my personality...I dunno. Maybe I was born for Indian culture. But I just have a hard time looking everybody square in the face and acting human in public. I guess it's called shyness. Not only that, but after Pastor Bud walked away, I realized that I had a lot more questions to ask him about communion, and that the service was starting now! I was unduly freaked out. But I tried to settle my heart before the Lord and just love Him during the worship service.

As usual, God proved to me that life is not as complicated as I thought. Pastor Bud demonstrated everything for us, giving the communion servers the elements first and saying "take, eat, and give thanks with joy." Then communion began. I was the "cup bearer." Suddenly all my fear melted away. I looked each person in the eyes (or sometimes at the eyes, if they were concentrating) and said the precious words: "the blood of Christ, shed for you." Each time I said it, it grew more real and just welled up in me. It dawned on me as each person passed how I really loved and cared for them as part of my church body, and how Christ's blood was for them personally and for all of us as a whole. How could I bear any grudge, judgement, or barrier with these brothers and sisters for whom Christ died? How can you help but love these people as they come to you and you say these words to them, and it hits you how much Jesus adores them and bled for them too. You see each sheep of His flock go by...the happy, the hurting, the hard, the tender. The young and old together. You stoop to let the little child reach in, you raise the cup to the really tall guys. You see the people you see across the aisle from you every week, and the people you pass in the hall. You see people you've never spoken to and people whose lives you know. You see their joys and pains, the vestiges of a week, written on their faces. Your heart cries out to the woman who just lost her husband, the girl with the beautiful, fearful face, the hardworking father of four. Children of light. By the end, my hands were shaking. I am so thankful for the privilege to serve communion like that! I went back to my seat with the words ringing in my consciousness "The Body of Christ, broken for you; the Blood of Christ, shed for you." For you! For you! I want to tell everyone I meet...it's for you! And I want to walk in that Newness of Life every day.