
I wasn’t able to attend the party that night, several
years ago. There was already something on my calendar – some church
meeting or event. But my husband Jeremy was able to go. Later
that night when he came home, I took one look at him and said, “What IS that
on the front of your shirt?” Looking down at the thin, brown lines
that ran vertically down the front of his shirt, he started to laugh – and
then told me about this wonderful new invention they’d had at the party
called “the chocolate fountain.” Even though I hadn’t been at the
party, I could tell by both the smile on his face AND the chocolate he was
wearing that he’d had a wonderful time!
Fast forward now to this past Memorial Day weekend, and my son Caleb’s
wedding to his bride Colleen. Colleen wore a beautiful, white,
floor-length wedding dress. The satin skirt of her dress was gathered
up into many small bunting-shaped pockets (I believe they were technically
called “starburst pickups”). It wasn’t until after the ceremony was
over that Colleen discovered that crumbs of the communion bread the two of
them had served to everyone had been caught in the gathered material all
over the front of her skirt. Colleen and Caleb both laughed and talked
about the symbolism of those crumbs as they gently brushed them away.
These two stories lead me to ask: how is your faith evident? How is
your love of Jesus clear to anyone you encounter in any given moment – as
clear as the chocolate on my husband’s shirt, or as real as the crumbs of
communion bread that filled the skirt of my daughter-in-law’s dress?
Is the cross you have around your neck verified by the light of God’s love
and joy and peace reflecting in your eyes? Is the message on that
Christian t-shirt you’re wearing supported by words that are kind and gentle
and grace-filled coming from your lips? When people see you, hear you,
interact with you, and watch what you do… do they know that you love Jesus?
And do they sense Jesus’ love for them through you?
What a great honor. What an awesome responsibility.
Tamara






