"A'hd"

"A'hd" is the Arabic word for "oath" or "promise."

I made a personal A'hd when I left Palestine, that I have yet to share with anyone. So why not just share it with everyone...or just to type it out for myself, really.

I remember the day of my next-to-last Communion. I was at the Sea of Galilee with a group that I'd been helping see the sites in Israel/Palestine. It was our last gathering. I played in the warm waves of the lake. Took my water bottle to collect some stones and shells from the shore. I put the little wooden dove I was wearing on a string around my neck in the bottle too. It floated to the top at first.

The water was so clear. I almost wanted to drink it.

I texted a couple of people in America, hoping it wasn't too early because of the time difference. I was seven hours ahead. And then I stared at the lake, knowing it would be the last time I would look at it. I thought of the promise, the A'hd I was about to make, as it had weighed on my conscience for several weeks already.

I would go a year without taking Communion.

That did not make much sense to me at first. But as I prayed about it, I came to realize what Communion means to me, to others, to the Church as a whole, to God. So why be denied such a beautiful thing? I can't say all the reasons why, but I do know that my heart has been tested, strengthened, and humbled through this experience.

I took my last Communion on Easter Sunday at a campground with the church family I love.

And I won't have it again until Easter Sunday, 2009.

It's not that easy. I am uncomfortable going to church, sitting while everyone else is lined up, making their way down the isle. I sometimes go outside to be alone, to pray. But mostly I am overwhelmed with the same thoughts: of the people who are not able to receive Communion, who are lonely or lost, or who have no place to call home. I think of the people I encountered in Israel and Palestine, of their situations, and pray for peace. I think of the compassion I have been shown from people who literally have nothing, yet they baked me bread and fed me olives. And said "Thanks be to God" with nearly every other phrase. I think of how disconnected it feels to not be close to God. Or other people.

I look at the other people, and am happy they are there....

These are some of the thoughts...as I sit with the uncomfortableness in doing without. I admit, at first I was kinda ashamed of it, because I find it difficult to articulate "Why?" But it is MY A'hd. My promise. My position to keep, my cross to bear. It has it's place in my life, and I am grateful.

But I can't wait until Easter!

--Shannon