Holy three days of blogs in a row, Batman!
Today, as I was grabbing a small sacrament cup from the tray in Rachel's hand, I tried to readjust the cup and failed. The cup of precious sacrament water spilled all over me.
I was momentarily embarrassed, letting out an "Oh my gosh," and an "awesome," at some point... I managed to get two or three drops from the cup and passed it on. The rest was on my turquoise dress.
But really, I totally was upset at myself. I thought of the precious sacrament, and how I had let that blessed water go everywhere but where it was supposed to go. I was so happy to be taking the sacrament, and I spilled it everywhere!
I was thinking of its symbolism, what that water represents--the blood of Christ, and how it absolves me and makes my sins of garnet white as snow. And about how grateful I am for that ordinance every week, and how much of a difference it made to me when my clumsy mistake prevented me from taking full advantage of it. The physical act has everything to do with its meaning. Pretending to drink, from an empty cup, would just not mean anything.
So, I just wanted to put my thoughts down, regarding that plain and precious opportunity I have every week, to repent and allow the Savior to atone for me. It is a blessing, and I don't know what others do without that knowledge. I know what it's like to not take the sacrament, and the difference between when I take it and don't take it is like day and night, respectively.
A public "thank you" to my Savior, brother, and friend, Jesus Christ, who died for me and all of my imperfections. I always wonder how many drops of his blood were spilled for me, and I'm grateful for every one of them. My humble shepherd who makes my life so much better every day because of what he did for me. Most days I'm a pretty terrible person actually, but I really do hope and try to make Him proud, and make his sacrifice worth it.