You pour your love into our hearts. Yes, in this I can and
must hope, for I come to communion empty, drained out by the steady drip of
day-after-day. And what can I do but open wide and guzzle, drink this juice
like a thirsty toddler, needing to consume the very nature of love, which is
your crimson sacrifice. I don’t need a shotglass, I need a baptism, but maybe
this sacrament can split me open till my parchment paper covering dissolves
into the deep cracks of spirit and I am
filled. It is but a cup, but the substance is all my hope, all by faith,
all so real. And I might just have enough of your blood sugar to keep me going,
to keep me loving, because my love does fail but your real presence does not. So
turn these drops into a downpour and me into visible grace.
~lg
No comments:
Post a Comment