The Flog – The Fabry Log

It's Sunday night and it's been another whirlwind of a weekend. We went to church together this morning--took about 30 minutes to get there, but the people were friendly, the sermon was biblical, and communion was an adventure.

I've always wondered how old you have to be in order to take communion. When we attended a Presbyterian church, there was a class the kids went through, a catechism of sorts, making sure they knew what they were doing when they partook. But in cases like this morning, you have to think quickly. No time for in-depth classes.

Brandon, 7, was sitting next to me. He's the one who called me on the phone to tell me he'd prayed to become a Christian a few months ago. "I am with the Father," he said. So I couldn't see a good reason not to let him take communion. I leaned over and tried to explain as the pastor talked about what we were doing. "The bread is the body of Jesus and the wine represents his blood given for us."

He nodded and watched as the communion plate passed. Both the bread and the wine (wafers and grape juice) were in there and he took one of each. He watched me, then copied my actions. Then he licked the communion cup. Like a dog that can't get enough of the peanut butter, he just licked and licked. I knew I had a foolproof test for when a kid is too young to take communion. Now, I have always WANTED to lick the communion cup, but I have never done something so gauche.

He looked up at me, with all seriousness, and said, "What's the cranberry juice supposed to be?"

***

I've set up my office for the show tomorrow. Another setback--the man who owns the house right next to ours gave me a can't miss deal on renting it month-to-month. It's the same size as the one we're in, three bedrooms. I thought it would be perfect for my office, a peaceful escape where I could do the show and write, but there's something they put on the carpets to clean it and when I go inside my eyes begin to water. Andrea couldn't stay even a few minutes. We tried airing it out but we'll just have to deal with what we have.

I think God is teaching us how little we really need. For the past few weeks my briefcase has been a plastic bag from the local grocery store, Frys. I just put the stuff I need in there and toss it in the car and go. I bought two new shirts at Walmart, both white Dickeys shirts, and I found an Ohio State hat for $5. I think I'm ready for Spring.

Saturday I took three boys to watch the Rockies play the Dodgers. Except it wasn't the real Rockies and Dodgers. These were the single A teams with a few players sprinkled in. It was still fun. Except it was 91 degrees and we were right in the middle of the hot sun and there were all kinds of college-age kids around us drinking many bottles of Coors and letting fly with the language. It's sad to hear and after a few innings we left, partly because of the heat and partly because I was tired of the language, and mostly because we were in the Dodger section and they were leading by 4 runs.

I don't even need regular season games to make me happy. There's something about doing without all the bells and whistles that makes you hunger for what really satisfies. Makes you want to lick the communion cup a little longer.