A little help here

I had the opportunity to go to a church in Charleston this Sunday and was welcomed by all. The service was great, the praise and worship amazing. As always I left with more questions than I arrived with. I think god does it on purpose; it’s the way he teaches us. I’m always amazed at his sense of humor, oh yes he has one and I’m living proof of it.

I just happened to show up for communion day. Now don’t get me wrong I understand the severity of what it means and have no intentions of being sacrileges. But I’ve always got a white shirt on and have always been scared I’d spill the red wine on my shirt, a situation that’s never happened, thank you God.

I found out yesterday, I was worried about the wrong thing. The unleavened crackers have changed, they went from the small little square things to a flat round one the size of a quarter. Once we all had our symbolic pieces of bread, we closed our eyes to thank God for what we were about to receive. Remember when you were young and you almost fell, you didn’t, now that I’m older when I almost fall I do.

As I leaned forward to pray the little cracker jumped out of my hand. I opened my eyes and watched it run across the floor, then turning it ran under the bench in front of me, did a few cute little circles and fell over, out of reach. It was like it was training for the Olympics or trying out for Dancing with the Stars. I saw it lying there blinking at me, if it could have smiled it would have.

I glanced left and right to see if anyone else noticed, no, so far so good. I questioned Gods reasoning for this, he gave no clue. The preacher spoke a little longer than usual to bless them as I sat watching mine. I could have just acted like I’d eaten it and left it there to be found by the clean up crew, it deserved it after all, but no communion cracker was getting the best of me.

My knees don’t work too well, so getting down on them held no guarantee that I’d be able to get back up again. Luckily no one was close by, as I had to crawl three steps to reach it. Every one in the church was listening to the preacher bless their little innocent cracker, mine was the black sheep of the family. As they prayed, I scrambled to get the upper hand on mine.

I did get it back, I feared it would break in little pieces to show me it was in control, but it didn’t. I sat back up in my seat just as the collective eyes of the church opened and took my communion with everyone else. For the thousandth time I heard god snicker a little. Is it just me or does he do this to every one? I’m not sure sharing a private joke with God is always a good thing.

So my question of the week, the one that flashed through my head as I stared across the distance at that little cracker. Is there a three-second rule when it comes to communion crackers and if so who came up with it? I guess just like old Duke on the Bush’s baked bean commercials, God knows, but he ain’t tellin.