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As I sat down on my sofa with saltines and grape juice on the table in front of me, I was struck by the silence. I was by myself  getting ready to celebrate communion. Though alone, I was not lonely. Rather, I was at peace. A favorite verse resonated silently, “Be still and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10

With the You Tube channel set to TFBC’s upcoming communion service, all seemed surreal. Indeed, Good Friday had been quite out of the ordinary. For the past few years, my family and I have been out of town for the Easter holidays. This year was to have been no exception—we had a trip to New Bern and Atlantic Beach planned that we had to cancel—coronavirus.

Last year, we had celebrated Sunrise Service on Myrtle Beach and gone to church with Grandson Luke and wife Hayley in Wilmington. This year, our plans, like billions of Christians around the world, had changed abruptly. We would celebrate the resurrection at home and join in worship via You Tube. How bizarre!

Pastor Mike Motley’s face suddenly came on the screen. A wonderful “shepherd” who has looked after the “sheep” in my household for over twenty years, he helped us say goodbye to my husband Gerry, my Mother Nelle, mother-in-law Joyce, grandson Garrett, sister-in-law Gail, and brother Ron. More than my pastor, he is my dear friend and brother in Christ, a co-laborer in ministry. I felt very comfortable, as if he were visiting with me right there in my living room.

We began to sing the old song, “By His Wounds.” My mostly soprano voice sometimes dropped to alto, but our Audience of One did not mind, and my dear pastor could not hear my cracking voice. A lump formed in my throat making it even harder to sing.

“He was pierced for our transgressions

He was crushed for our sins

The punishment that brought us peace

Was upon Him

And by His wounds

By His wounds, we are healed

Grief co-mingled with gratitude filled my soul. What a sacrifice He made to save us!

Thoughts turned back to Pastor Mike’s reminder that confession and repentance are preliminary to communion, and my heart murmured to God:

“Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me, and know my anxieties;
And see if there is any wicked way in me,
And lead me in the way everlasting.” Psalm 139:23-24

“Cleanse me, Lord! Cleanse me,” I whispered.

What a somber reminder of the Father’s love, the Son’s willingness, the Spirit’s heart-echo, as Mike read, “Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.” (John 15:13)

“Thank you, Lord, for giving your life for me—for me!” I prayed silently.

Pastor Mike’s voice called me back as he read Mark 14:23-25:

^“And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them and said, ‘Take, eat; this is My body.’

^“Then He took the cup, and when He had given thanks He gave it to them, and they all drank from it. And He said to them, ‘This is My blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many. Assuredly, I say to you, I will no longer drink of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.’”

^“And when they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.”

Very quietly, taking Mike’s lead, I ate the bread and the juice and remembered. In a whisper, we sang:

“There is a fountain filled with blood
Drawn from Immanuel’s veins;
And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains.”

“Thank you, Lord, that I was plunged beneath the blood years ago! You have washed me clean. What a wondrous reminder. Thank you, Lord, that I know the ending! Unlike the women and the disciples, I know that the horrors of Friday will unfold into Celebration Sunday, for you have defeated the grave and arisen to make an eternal home for me! Hallelujah!”

As the official communion service ended, I moved to my piano —something I rarely do–and continued to worship. Wonderful songs of my past flooded my mind. Though I play poorly for lack of practice and my voice is raspy with age, I sang to my Savior and remembered.

It was as if my mother and I sang “In the Garden” as we did when I was a child. I could hear her deep alto in harmony with my little-girl soprano.

Then My dear husband Gerry and I joined our voices to sing “What Can Wash Away My Sins” and “I Will Sing of My Redeemer.” His rich baritone voice seemed to fill the room. It was as if he were beside me as he had been many times for over 50 years.

My mother-in-law and sister-in-law Gail, both now residents of heaven, chimed in and joined the ensemble as we sang “Jesus Paid It All” in four-part harmony. “What a Day that Will Be” concluded the time of communion and remembrance.

“What a day that will be
When my Jesus I shall see
When I look upon His face
The One who saved me by His grace
When He takes me by the hand
And leads me to the Promised Land
What a day, glorious day that will be.”

Though my heart was filled with joy, I was also homesick—wanting to see my Jesus face to face and my dear departed family once again. And then I remembered something else.  I have a purpose and a calling. It isn’t time yet for my departure. I have work to do here, for he has told me, along with Peter and millions of others through the centuries, “Feed my sheep. Take care of my lambs. Feed my sheep.” (John 21:17-18)

“Oh, Lord, thank you for the price you paid! Help me to be willing to ‘lay down my life for our friends.’”

Challenge: What about you? Has your Easter season been filled with blessings and precious memories despite the pandemic? Have you visited with the Savior and spent time in quiet communion with Him? If so, I pray your days have been filled with his love, joy, and peace. If not, I pray that you will invite Him into your heart and come to know him in a personal way. If you take that once-in-a-lifetime step, I promise your days will never be the same. Many blessings!