Home again after a few days in the land of kudzoo, coal trucks and double-wides. Funny how things turn around on you. After feeling that my entire description of life in the area where I was born depicted such a negative picture, I ended up, not explaining, not even defending, but trying to get others to accept it.
For evening devo's I decided to do my Bisquick communion. It would have been perfect too...if everyone hadn't been so gosh darn different! I gave each person a cup with a small amount of Bisquick in it and asked them to add a small amount of the liquid of their choice. I explained that the end result should be about the consistancy of cake batter. Too bad not everyone's image of cake batter is the same. Some were so thick they wouldn't pour out of the cup and others were pure liquid! Into the cake pan they all went, however, then into the oven. After a much longer time than expected, the mixture finally took on a somewhat brownish and spotty cake-like appearance. When dumped out onto a plate...well let's just say that it was not the perfect loaf of communion bread. Trying to break and serve this lump of oooey-gooey, half-baked stuff was a chore, but we did it.
After everyone had taken communion, it hit me! This was probably the worst tasting and worst looking communion bread they had ever had. Definitely not what some would consider "proper." It was a complete mess. But then, so is life. Our purpose was not to judge those we were there to serve. Our purpose was not to pry into the "stories." Instead, our purpose was to be in communion with God's children who needed our help at this specific time, in this specific place. We were not "Brethren to the Rescue!" We were brothers and sisters extending a hand to one another.
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