Good morning…

One friend says, “I am constantly surprised by time.” Time drags. Time evaporates. Time stands still. Time sneaks up. I too am constantly surprised by time.

Last night was no exception. Many of us, one hundred and thirty-nine to be exact, nestled into Northside’s intimate, sacred chapel to experience an amazing Women’s Lenten Communion Service. Karen Riddell shared “God’s Invitation into Friendship,” a message that was both funny and down to earth, vulnerable and encouraging. Karen and I had been meeting for the past six weeks, going over her thoughts, chiseling away at the message God wanted her to speak. She did a fantastic job showing from all different angles that we are hardwired by our Creator for loving and being loved, for needing one another to combat loneliness, for deepening our friendship with God, from Whom all friendships flow.

It was about ten minutes into Karen’s talk, when I looked down at the clock on my phone and saw 6:50 pm. That was the moment when I thought, “God, I know Karen’s talk is only about thirty minutes long. We have one song to sing before communion and then the final prayer. LORD, what are You going to do with the other forty-five minutes?” My co-workers and I had gone over the schedule again and again, but in that instant it struck me, “6:30 to 8:00 pm is a long time to fill when nearly one full hour is unstructured.” What an uncomfortable moment to be surprised by time.

Karen finished her talk and we sang in tempo with the organ, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” I got up to speak to the mass of wide-eyed listeners around 7:15 pm. A full forty-five minutes of God speaking through me in the moment? I heard myself say, “Please join my prayer.” We thanked our relational God (Father, Son, Spirit) for craving a friendship with us so badly that He wired our brains, our bodies, our very being to need Him desperately. God’s Holy Spirit took it from there. After we prayed, I explained that Lent is a season of introspection, a time when God helps us to shed our old stagnant parts to welcome the new growth God is orchestrating. God’s Holy Spirit took it from there. Then we talked about the first communion, Jesus sitting around the Last Supper table with his best, best friends. I picked up homemade bread, just like Jesus picked up homemade bread, “This bread we are putting into our mouths symbolizes the very body of Jesus. We are taking in Jesus Christ as our nourishment. May this bite of bread act like a granule of yeast or a tiny seed, gradually spreading Jesus’ being throughout our own body so that we might become the hands and the heart, the mouth and the ears of our living God in this hurting world.” Similarly, I lifted the cup, holding it out to all, “This cup symbolizes the blood of Jesus shed to fill our veins with the life giving Spirit of God Almighty.” I instructed us in the logistics of the communion, inviting women to kneel before the altar if they felt so inclined, before returning to their seat in the pew. I shared a final prayer as we neared 8:00 pm (funny, I did not ever notice our exact ending time). God naturally drew to a close our special evening amid the chatter of friendship, intimate friendship with God and with one another.

Now, the Holy Spirit takes it from here.

Every word you give me is a miracle word–
how could I help but obey?
Break open your words, let the light shine out,
let ordinary people see the meaning, Psalm 119:129-130 (MSG),

Sue