The bread was like Manna and the water was like wine.
My hand shook as I reached for the torn piece, the light gleaming off the silver. It was like my hand had to be commanded to take the bread, and it took seconds longer than it should. In that hesitation I wondered if I were causing damnation to my soul, but as the thickness of it hit my tongue, I knew that the repentance was working and remembrance flooded my heart. When I took up the water, my actions were swift and sure, and the water felt as living as the water that flowed from the temple in Ezekial’s vision.
I have felt more at peace this last week than I have in a very long time.
I’ve seen repentance and the atonement with the clarity for which I have been begging for a very long time. It was experience that taught me what could not be known a priori.
The suffering has brought patience and humility that no vision could ever proffer, and as I sat in church, I didn’t feel despair about my standing with God; I know there is work to do, and it will not be easy, but I also know this time my place at the table is for good.