Good Friday

I was sitting in Good Friday service this evening with my three children on the last row of the middle aisle. Just in case I needed to make a quick exit if my baby was upset, I wouldn’t disturb anyone in front of me. The music was awesome and I could feel the Holy Spirit by the second song fill the entire room. My daughter and I were dancing and my son was enjoying the service in his own way. It was time for communion and it just so happened that our row was first. I had just started nursing my baby and it was time to stand up. They say God has sense of humor. Every during His own Good Friday service.
My son was first. My baby unlatched and I quickly covered myself and stood up. As we entered the aisle, the usher said in my ear, “Wow, you’ve really got your hands full there.” I laughed, helped my children and I to our portions and made it back to our seats. We sat down, talked about what this sacrament meant, and began to partake. I took mine, my daughter followed, and then I quickly stopped my son from taking his. It dawned on me as I was chewing that this was baked bread and possibly contained one or more of the foods my son is allergic to. If you know him, you know he’s a special guy. He suffers from severe contact dermatitis, a skin condition that prevents his skin from producing natural moisture among other things. Added to that are allergies and asthma. Something like milk or egg could create an emergency situation fairly quickly.
So I quietly reminded him of this and we agreed that I would take his sacrament for him. He quickly agreed with a smile. I blessed it and ate it. The last thing I wanted was his communion to make him sick. I kissed him and said, “God definitely understands this.” He smiled and enjoyed the rest of the service.

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