Today's Communion

I noticed the hands serving me bread today were the same hands that touched the ground in Vietnam.

I noticed the man kneeling next to me is the same man who struggled with his sexuality for so many years, and now considers himself 'healed'.

I noticed the three brothers and the quiet father who stares with that sadness you can just feel when you see it. David is the oldest of the brothers.

I noticed a family of six sitting the pews. Five went forward while the father stayed behind.

I noticed the man who told me about his angel in WWII. The one that knocked him off his feet just seconds before a piece of shrapnel cut through his tent; his head in its path. I once wrote about him and his wife here.

I noticed the man who wants to be my financial advisor. We're having lunch on Thursday and I'll again have to tell him that "I'll think about it" in that tone of voice that really says "no thanks."

I noticed the young man who first came to our church because it was in his neighborhood and he figured it was some kind of omen.

I noticed the girl who had, moments before, looked into my eyes and asked "why are you leaving?"