Oswald Chambers often wrote about being “broken bread and poured out wine.” I don’t know how one could possibly be broken or poured out without suffering.
When our own childhood’s deep heartaches threaten to hold us prisoner for a lifetime, can we surrender the hurts to God and allow him to use us to loose the shackles of others?
When hands we’ve loved grow cold to this earth, can we release them to eternal love and not grow bitter in our grief?
|St. Peter's Episcopal Church, Fernandina|
Can we bear our blessed suffering to prisons, homeless shelters, and our own families?
It’s something to pray about.
Just after I’d written the preceding words, my husband and I went to a midday communion service. Because, of our out of state location due to Jerry’s prostate cancer treatment, we went to a church other than our own.
After we were greeted, I asked tentatively if we could come to communion since we were not members of the denomination. “Everyone is invited to this table,” we were graciously told.
As I listened to the liturgy on this Wednesday of Holy Week, I heard these words, “…give us grace to accept the suffering in this life…”
Yes, grace to accept, and grace to allow God to use it to make us his instruments.
"Empty to Fill."