I developed a paranoia, around that time, that I might drop the communion plate as it passed. They were large, chrome, hubcap-shaped dishes, and they each held at least fifty small plastic cups filled with grape juice. The whole thing shimmered like a ruby, and every time it came to me I held on tight, white-knuckled, quite certain the dish had a life and mind of its own.
That’s a lot of grape juice, I’d think to myself. That’s a lot of blood.
Today I’m writing over at Seth Haines blog. He’s a deep thinker, a profound writer, and a good guy. You can read the rest of my blog HERE (and while you’re there, check out some of Seth’s writing as well).