I felt that night as I felt during Communion—as if we were caught up in something bigger than we could grasp, and somehow the bread and wine were a visible sign of it. Every time I went forward to receive, I was re-upping to play some part in that story. I’m not saying I understood any of this as I lay there in bed that night; I didn’t. As was so often the case in my life, it was a feeling that I now know was homesickness for God.
