My five year old is learning to worship in the sanctuary. We talked through a lot of the expectations, including - the most fascinating, mysterious part of the service - communion. He loves communion and don't for one minute think it's because he is highly evolved (he is). It's definitely because we use the ever-delicious and moist Hawaiian bread. I thought we had everything covered, from the receiving of the bread to the dipping (but not too far in) of the bread. But I had forgotten one very important piece of instruction so when we got to the front of the line, he turned back and plopped his wad of chewed gum right in my hand.
I learned something with that pool of spit and stick in my hand.
Sometimes you have to empty yourself before you can receive.
All kinds of things can get in the way. Ego and pride are usually first on the list but sometimes our plates are full of other more humble, well-intended distractions like worry and concern. Sometimes our desire to control and fear of the unknown takes up all the room in our hearts. We attempt to fill ourselves with all the other things all the while wondering why God isn't showing up for us, or providing a fill for our God-shaped deficit. That's because it's God-shaped and not shaped like shopping or tasty treats or vices or devices.
To receive, first empty. Then proceed forward.
God is there, ready with an unmatched gift.