I smiled but yet maintained a sorrow in which only Christ could lift. He is my sweet comforter. I played with the notion of not going to the morning service but the Spirit prompted me to go, for there I would find peace for my aching soul.
In anger of heart at my failures, I ventured up to church and displayed a negative attitude towards the sermon preached, but my heart softened as he spoke. Then came the broken bread.
It was time for communion, and there the Spirit reminded me of my beloved who died for me. I gripped the bread and ate it slowly and drank the juice (his blood) to the full remembering that no longer guilt I should feel for my sins, because if I should continue in guilt, then it would imply an unbelief in the sufficiency of my beloved’s sacrifice. I felt in me at that particular moment an uplifting from my sorrows; and if you shall see me today in a happy elation, it is all because of Him.
I remembered him on the cross, for his body was broken for me and his blood was shed for me. He loved me before I was born. His Father saw all of my wickedness and yet with a great delight, He chose me. His choice could not be based on anything I ever did, but I know that it was His pleasure and will to the praise of His glorious grace. I am marked with his perfection because I was imperfect, so why should I dwell on my imperfection and be weighed with grief when I could dancingly dwell on his perfection and be laden with gentleness of heart.
If you are like me and your sorrow is heavy upon your fragile bones, I beseech you to remember the broken bread and to eat of him; yea take and eat, and sweeter than honey it will be to your mouth; and as the rain to the grass so the broken bread shall be to your soul.