Unprepared
the REST of the week #90
It's the rest of the week. Is there anything keeping you from resting?
Today I participated in La Santa Cena (also referred to as Communion, The Lord's Supper, or the Eucharist). Before partaking of the emblems of Christ’s sacrifice for us, we practiced the rite of humility—footwashing—in remembrance of the night before Jesus’ death when he washed his disciples’ feet before sharing the Passover supper with them.
Footwashing reminds us that we all need to be cleaned up and it also gives people an opportunity to reach out to someone who they might be at odds with. There is a room for women, one for men, and one for families.
Ricardo and I usually do footwashing together—it’s a lovely time to reconnect and renew our commitment to loving each other well. And yes, sometimes it serves as the perfect opportunity to apologize.
After we’d finished, I sat down and noticed the woman next to me hadn’t participated. I worried that maybe no one had asked her to join in and imagined maybe she felt a little lonely sitting all by herself, so I offered to wash her feet. What I didn’t know is that she had just declined another woman’s coaxing to join her.
“I didn’t know it was communion this week,” she said, “I’m not prepared.”
“Is it your feet?” I asked, worried less about being invasive and more about her not feeling included.
“No,” she answered, looking down. “I’m not prepared for the Santa Cena… there are issues at home.”
“Oh, sister,” I exclaimed passionately, forgetting my filters, “that’s the whole point, we can never be prepared—we come because we aren’t perfect and we need Jesus’ sacrifice for us.”
She smiled and looked at me as though she’d never thought of that—even though someone had said that very thing up front only ten minutes before.
Sometimes (mostly?) we need to hear the good truth from each other more than we need it from a pulpit.
Encouraged, I continued with a few more variations on the “come as you are” theme until she said, “yes, you’re right, let’s go.”
I don’t know the specifics of her issues, but we did talk about the challenge of leaving a sunny place you’ve called home for 30 years and moving 2500 miles to live with adult children.
Before bundling up to face the 38 degree weather outside, we hugged and she whispered her name, asking me to pray for her.
“Of course I will,” I replied, “and please pray for me also.”
Because God knows how much I need to know that I don’t have to wait for the perfect time to ask for help, say sorry, receive forgiveness, or even just keep on putting one good intention in front of the other on this journey towards receiving and loving well.
May nothing keep you from choosing rest, and my your rest be sweet.
Alicia
I like the thoughts but the photo at the end really got me studying it. On my phone it is rotated the wrong way and it looks like the juice in the left cup ought to pour out but it doesn’t. 🤷🏻♀️
Seems like there ought to be a lesson in this… just got it!!
Things are not always what they seem just as it wasn’t with that lady. We often make erroneous assumptions so better to ask questions than to make assumptions.