My Last Sunday

Today was my last Sunday at church with my family. I had to get up and speak, which of course horrified me all week -- even though when the time came, it took me less than a minute to do. After speaking, my pastor invited my family and the Elders of my church up so they could pray for me. It was very special. After church was over, I was able to take Communion. It was something I wanted to do because I don't know when I'll get to take it again. Not all churches practice open Communion.

My mom was darling. She totally cried multiple times at church. I felt emotional too, but I mostly let her shed tears for the both of us. It's hard though, because she's so adorable and genuine and lovable and missable; I could easily dissolve into tears with her all day long. But I won't, at least not yet, because that would make for a long week. My tears aren't sad though, and really, I don't think hers are either. I get emotional when I'm struck by an overwhelming sense of awe. I felt the same way before I left Seattle. Sometimes I just can't believe how lucky I am to have so much to miss and so much to be thankful for and so much to look forward to.

It was really important to me to celebrate Communion one more time, not that I did anything to make it a reality. It was all my mom's arranging. It was really special though, the way it happened: after church, in my pastor's office with my parents and my pastors and a couple of Elders who've known me my whole life. I can't really explain it, nor would I want to; but suffice to say, it was very intimate. And very binding. God's love, God's family, God's gifts; they are very binding. Sometimes things you've known your whole life can strike you in a whole new way.

And I suppose that that's the most humbling, awe-inspiring thing of all.