Walking with God, in word and motion

Those of you who know me best have likely heard me quip over "walking" with God. Long ago, the Lord showed me that regardless of my physical skill, I'll always walk with Him. I have been thinking about that lately because a few weeks ago I took part in a class where Jackson explained some of the history and Scriptural underpinnings for baptism and Communion. As our conversation went on, we talked about how language must be inclusive of all members of God's family. Jackson said that when he sees me, he has to think of rolling rather than walking... No thanks! (That makes me think of rolling on the floor... in the hay, down the mountain... clearly I digress :)

When Jackson told me that he thinks of me, perhaps struggling, to roll down the sloped Sanctuary aisle, I assured him that I prefer to come forward for Communion because that's one way I move toward God. Accepting the Bread and Cup in my seat wouldn't feel as participatory. Other people in the class then spoke of churches where the Bread and Cup were served along the pews while people remained seated. One of the most meaningful acts on Communion Sunday for me is the walk down that aisle. The walkway is steeper than it looks and I have slid more than once, but I feel compelled to advance under my own power as that time is between God and me. Each time Communion is served, I usually have the blessing of "fending off" offers from several people who wish to push me back to my usual place at the top of the aisle. I cannot tell you how much I enjoy everyone's desire to include and assist me! Those kindnesses are more powerful than you know.

This most recent Sunday, the miracle of Communion taught me another lesson. I attended our early worship service and was seated behind two ladies in their 80s who use walkers. I know one of those ladies from when she served as a greeter 8 years ago. Miss Vivian was one of the early people who made me feel welcome. The ushers were preparing for communion and asked me if I wished to be served in my seat. I declined, thanked them and went forward on my own. I returned and sat in prayer, only to look up and watch with blurry, grateful eyes as Miss Vivian and her walker-using sister were served two pews in front of me. This act of love and inclusion was not mentioned or done with spectacle, just compassionately offered and received. How like Jesus! At the end of our worship service, both ladies' walkers were returned to them and they rose to leave. I was struck by that act, too, because I realized that earlier in the morning when the ladies entered the sanctuary and sat, ushers moved their walkers which allowed them to simply be part of God's family. NO unwanted distinction from mobility devices present themselves in His Sanctuary. How good is God to preserve our dignity! Many of us are blessed by near-total access to the UPPC buildings, which allows those with mobility limitations to simply participate as our hearts desire. Thank you!