It's sort of a stream of consciousness...sort of a journal entry...sort of something I wanted to get off my chest.
And when I want to get something off my chest, well...you know what a writer typically does.
As in, like, she writes. That kind of thing.
If you go to church, I'm guessing you know what Communion is.
If you don't go to church, you still might.
But I'm going to give you a background of the very thing which I feel far too guilty to partake of.
Back before my Messiah's crucifixion, on the night He was to be sacrificed for the sins of the world, the very first Communion happened. Jesus "broke bread" (or shared bread) with His twelve disciples. He shared wine with them, too. And now, approximately two thousand years later, Christians share Communion as a remembrance of that fateful night, and what Jesus did for the sins of the world.
Our church in particular does Communion only once a year. We feel it's more sacred and special doing it this way, while other churches find it more meaningful to share Communion more often. It's a matter of preference, really.
The thing about Communion is, you're not supposed to go into it unless you're a Christian who's right with God. Otherwise, it's like a mockery to the sacrifice Jesus made. Unless your heart is in the right place, Christians aren't supposed to take part in Communion. It's supposed to be a holy thing where only those who are right with God attend. By "right with God," I don't mean that we have to be perfect - simply that we shouldn't be holding onto any huge sin that separates us from Him.
It's about a month before Communion. One of my church's pastors (we have several, actually) talked to us about all this. How we aren't supposed to break bread or drink wine in Communion unless our hearts are pure before God (again, not that we must be perfect, but that we mustn't be continuing a sin that holds us back from a relationship with God). And I sort of starting freaking out.
If you've read my autobiography on here, then you'll know that my greatest struggle is spiritual perfectionism. Sometimes, I'm doing okay. Other times, it's all I can do to believe that Christ can save someone as sinful as me. Someone as wretched and undeserving as me. There's nothing particular in my life that makes me feel this way...I sometimes just can't knock this feeling of "I'm too terrible for God to ever want me."
So as I was sitting there, listening to the pastor talk about how we should only come to Communion if our hearts are right with God, I came pretty close to breaking into tears. The thought that kept drumming into my head was,
I'm too guilty!
That stupid devil just won't let up. He won't stop hurling lies at me...lies which I so often believe. I'm too awful for God to ever love. I'm too far gone. There's nothing I can ever do to be right in His eyes. I might as well give up. He'll never love me.
Yeah, things like that.
So I wrote a song.