Communion

"Take the cup now in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."
I remember three years ago when I said no. I remember staring at the tiny cup of juice and thinking I couldn't do it. Why? Fear. I was afraid. Not of Jesus. No never. But afraid of food.
It amazes me that last night I was pouring my heart out to God during communion and yet three years ago I couldn't even get myself to partake in communion. It amazes me how far I've come. So much of my life was focused on this problem, this disorder, that I couldn't even take communion in remembrance of My God. Last night He reminded me of how much has changed. So I thank Him.
I thank Him for giving me the strength to overcome an obstacle that for the longest time held me captive. I thank Him for the human power He provided to talk me through hell and to love me when I didn't think anyone did. I thank Him for loving me enough to not give up, even when I did or refused to progress. Most of all I thank Him because of His broken body and His blood. Because no one understands more than Him what brokenness means than the Man who died for me. God taught me that I am worth so much more than I consider my own worth. His version of worth is so much Greater than my own perspective. And that is why, three years later, I am able to take communion. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.