My Thoughts Drift

Another Sunday in the Service of the LORD....
Preface:
So the Pacific Time Zone is 2 hours behind Central [Texas] Time. And because so many of my loved ones are set to function according to those pesky two hours, and because I really don't want to wake them at say 10PM Pacific [Midnight Central], I thought I would handle this in what I [again] thought would be a very convenient manner. I left the clock on which my computer runs set to Texas time. Leading to it always seeming like I am awake and ready to go two hours before the rest of creation, which is laid back anyway, this being California and all.
Story:
The faith community I am worshipping with meets at 11AM on Sundays. Before I left you, my faithful friends, I was not looking forward to getting up that early. Those of you who were worried about me changing while I was out here, at least in this instance, don't, I still really do prefer the crack of noon or 1PM, 3PM at the very, very latest I promise. But in the four weeks I have been in this neck of the woods 11AM seems to be late enough even to please me, especially since my sister-in-law makes fantastic baked goods.
Getting to the point...
As I held the communion bread this morning, I was thinking about that pesky time change between the 'zones'. I was thinking okay, it is not quite 2PM in Abilene...I wondered if Chelsa was in her kitchen baking Hope's bread for this evening. Is my 'gluten-free' bread made by Abby going to taste as good as her bread always does? [It was pretty good, but Chelsa is, as always in my book, the uncontested Blue Ribbon Winning Champion of Bread].
I was also thinking about time marching on...2000 years ago JESUS broke bread, blessed it, and giving it to HIS disciples, saying, "This is MY Body, when you eat it, remember ME."
And I did. I remembered CHRIST.
I remembered the first Sunday I ate the bread with a congregation, warning the lady in the white dress that this was the first time I would take communion and I was so very worried about spilling the tray, which of course, I proceeded in doing.
I remembered as we approached Christmas last year, how Hope remembered the death of CHRIST and the death of cherished friends and family in the sharing of communion in three un-traditional [non-tradition, however you want to say it] but quite lovely ways...goodbye past, standing still, walking into the future knowing we are leaving faithful footsteps behind.
I remembered when K.B. stood up and announced that after prayer, fasting, and listening to the HOLY SPIRIT move in their hearts, the elders decided the ladies of Hope could nourish our faith community by baking the bread and by serving it to the congregation.
I remembered the first time I baked bread with Chelsa, the same day I first stood up and opened my heart wide enough to share the profound abiding joy I often experience in communion.
I remembered how Janet loves the personal benediction I offer to those I commune with.
In that moment of communion today, as I sat thinking, I remembered Hope who would "Come to the table," and hopefully leave with what their hearts had been longing for tonight.
I remembered and thanked our GOD for the hands stretched behind the faithful to lift me to the hands holding mine now, and the hands I am hoping will help me spread out the bread dough that I plan to bake for all who I encounter along my walk to Emmaeus before I am laid to rest with my fathers and my mothers.
Thank YOU and You who communed with me this day, The Day of The LORD WHO Is The SPRING of LIVING WATER. Hallelujah and Amen.