Solo Communion: A Response To Verbal Abuse

"You lead us in the song of Your salvation, and all Your people sing along. Your grace is enough for me...." (Chris Tomlin)

It is the evening of Good Friday, which should be known as "Awesome Friday" in the Christian lexicon. My husband said terribly hurtful words this week leading up to Easter.  In fact, I can't imagine any comments more mean than the words he spoke - I should pray that I never be proven wrong, wouldn't you agree?  My reaction was heaving sobs, the kind where you just can't stop making seal-like noises and the snot runs down your lips. I ended up sitting on the bathroom floor crying into a towel to muffle the sounds.  All I could hold in my mind were a few lines from a song I played with the worship team: "Jesus I am resting, resting, in the joy of what thou art, I am finding out the greatness of thy loving heart."  I grabbed on to this lifeline and hummed a few bars.  Today on Awesome Friday the tears are still flowing and my emotions are raw; I know that if I attend communion service tonight, I will not be able to keep from sobbing in front of my church friends and releasing the secret that my husband has a problem. All this is simply an introduction to explain why, although I desperately wanted to take communion tonight, I am instead communing with you by telling you a story of the time Jesus offered me communion for one.... 

Several years ago, my son and I attended a week at JHRanch, a Christian camp in the beautiful Marble Mountains/ Klamath River area. I hoped to open up spiritual conversations with him and within him, and this happened in marvelous ways. My son started his faith journey there on the mountain and he continues to walk this path today at a Christian college. Camp speakers and times of worship also re-awakened my own faith. The time away from home, work, husband, and e-mail was space to think, to feel, to grow.  Every night Ronnie Freeman and the worship band led the campers in songs of praise; one of my favorites was "Your Grace Is Enough." The time at camp was a spiritual leap forward for each of us and for our relationship together.

The last day of camp arrived on a Sunday.  We left after breakfast, basking in the lightness of a week well spent in spiritual pursuits.  I wanted the joy of this new closeness with God and with my son to last.  We drove the rental car down the mountain and through small towns on the way to a distant airport. We stopped in the rural town of Fort Jones to find lunch for our flight.  We found an open bakery and bought a whole loaf of bread.  We looked for a store with meat or cheese, but nothing else was open. Thus we boarded the small plane with nothing but a single round of bread.

The plane departure was delayed for mechanical work.  The sun streamed in through the windows while the plane sat on the ground.  To apologize for the wait, the stewards brought clear plastic cups of red wine.

Is it theologically incorrect to say Jesus offered me communion? Is it communion if there is only one? In streams of sunlight, with "Your Grace Is Enough" lilting in my heart, I broke the bread and accepted the wine. This solo communion was a gift and a reminder that His grace was sufficient and would continue even as I returned home to my family and the troubles brewing there.