And a small light from above reflected into my cup.
My cup that held the blood that was sacrificed so I could live.
I stared closely, in thanksgiving and admiration.
Because the filler of the cup, is the filler of the soul, and for all that flows from the heart.
It was beautiful, to be holding truth in clenched hands, with lights shining down and loved ones near.
All partaking in their own way, their own artful way.
How we take in moments such as these, tell us so much about ourselves as artists.
The narrative I repeat and the narrative I hear, differ vastly from my neighbor nearby, sitting in the same room, experiencing the same moment in time.
Today was World Communion Sunday.
How beautiful this day must have been to our heavenly Father.
To see his creation, worshipping and remembering.
Worshipping the greatest name we'll ever know.
And remembering the greatest sacrifice there ever was.
What made today even more beautiful was the sermon.
The sermon that wasn't planned, but given.
The sermon that didn't match the one printed in the bulletin.
The sermon that reminded our congregation of God's greatest commandment.
To love the Lord our God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. And to love your neighbor as yourself.
He changed the main course of the table today, and we feasted on this great commandment that is so beautiful to say, but so hard to live out.
No paint was needed.
Brushes were unnecessary.
But a canvas was painted in my heart as I took in communion and watched the Holy Spirit dwell among the souls in our church.
Did you have an experience like this today?
Something so beautiful, so memorable, so art-filled?
Praying you did.
Or you will.