He Knows Me by Name

I've blogged about Communion before and it feels repetitive to do it again, but I think the nature of sacrament is that even when it's repeated, it isn't repetitive. There is more to be discovered through communion than I could even begin to fit into a single blog post, so I think I'm justified in writing two, which will still be far from comprehensive.

Our church is relatively small. I know most - probably all - of the church leaders at some level. That means that when I receive the elements, I am often addressed by name. For some reason, this always strikes me as special. I don't particularly take note if the same people greet me by name before the service, or address me by name at any other time, but during communion the use of my name has more significance.

It reminds me that Christ died for me, personally. It reminds me that He knows me by name; that two thousand years ago He knew me by name; even before that, He knew me. I may be just one girl in a very big world, but I'm special enough to God that he knows my name and everything about me. I'm even special enough that he's put me in a place where I can be reminded of that through Communion.

I know I don't deserve to be that special, but I'm glad that I am. I am gladder of that than of anything else I can think of.