The Communion of Saints

I love this Japanese Maple in my backyard. When we planted it in the summer of 2013 it was very small. Now it covers the garden wall, stands at least 20 feet high and 10 feet wide, and extends above the fence. Below it is our special Shalom brick providing holy protection to a few of Rod's earthly ashes. As with each Fall, the tree's delicate leaves are turning deep red and purple, but the tips of the branches are birthing new growth. New, delicate, beautiful leaves are a surprising contrast to the ones that know it's time to change, it's time to go.

In church this morning I got to do something I just love -- serve communion. "The cup of the new covenant poured out for you," I repeated to each person as they dipped the bread in the cup.  It's such a holy and humbling privilege. I felt part of the wide body of Christ which is always old and new. My own body is getting a bit old, but sharing the cup with others felt like new life, new green leaves popping out all over the place on a beautiful November day.

There are some bumpy days ahead this month. There will be the seventeenth anniversary of my Dad's sudden death. There will be the first Thanksgiving without my Mom. There will be my thirty-eighth wedding anniversary and the fourth one without Rod. A few days ago was All Saints' Day and Pastor David talked about the saints in our lives.  I know who they are and their love is always present to me.

As the sad days of this month come like they do every year, I pray to remember the Communion of Saints, the cup of the new covenant, and the new life in my backyard in the midst of shorter days, longer nights, and the temptation to think I'm all alone, because I am not.