Eucharist Please!!!

For one of my classes this semester we are writing blogs each week that reflect on the readings, our perspectives, opinions, concerns or worries, and other things. I'm finding it such a wonderful and insightful way to relate and engage the class! This week's prompt was When was the first time you remember knowing you were a Christian? This is the blog I wrote about it--I thought I'd share! 

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Well, I don't have an incredibly moving or inspirational story about how I "became a Christian" (honestly, I think that phrase is a little ambiguous and doesn't really account for the journey of relationships with God, but that soapbox is for another blog). My father was the pastor of a small Christian & Missionary Alliance church in Maple Valley, Washington. You will be shocked to learn that we only served communion once per month (yes, some churches don't do it every Sunday).

When I was about 4 or 5, I began to notice that the grownups were enjoying snack time in the middle of church every so often, and yet I was not allowed to partake! The silver plates with velvet bottoms with delicious looking bread and juice were passed right by me! When I inquired as to why I was not allowed to participate, my mother responded that it was only for those who "had accepted Jesus into their hearts." I was not about to let a little prayer stand in between me and snack time in the middle of church! So a few days later, I knelt with my mother and father in their bedroom and prayed. My mom cried. My dad might have too. 

I've always thought it a little sad that the beginning of my relationship with God began so obviously because I wanted to eat during church, but perhaps that is quite fitting that there was a carnal need, a selfish plan. Perhaps my story only highlights what is present in all of our lives as we relate to God. I've actually never really thought about it that way until now. As much as we might like to be honorable, full of integrity and belief, perhaps we're more like the little girl anxiously hungering for snack time during church.

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I find it interesting that one of my first gestures toward Christianity centers around the Eucharist. As much as I have been challenging Church and services lately, I can't seem to reason away or ignore my hunger for the Eucharist. I smiled this morning as I wrote the above blog; I guess my hunger for snack time never went away. It doesn't really make sense to me and I don't think I can explain it, but I do crave communion; it is a part of church that is often (almost always) completely satisfying and fulfilling. One of my professors from my undergraduate confided to me recently that the Eucharist is what draws him to Church each Sunday, gets him out of bed in the morning. Maybe that will become my story too...