The elders stood in pairs — one with a basket of bread; the other with goblets.The one with the bread looked me in the eye and said, “The body of Christ, broken for you, Ann.”Hearing my name made it so personal. The body of Christ, broken for Ann. For me.The elder next to him held the goblet. He said, “The blood of Christ, shed for you.”This week, we were to dip the morsel of bread into the cup.I took the bread, dipped it, placed it in my mouth. I felt the moistened bread falling into little pieces.I thought of John 14:20, where Jesus says, “On that day, you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you.”Walking back to my seat, I slowly chewed what remained, thinking of Christ in me…the Holy Spirit in me…in us…in that congregation…in every believer who clings to Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord.One time I tried to draw a little sketch that somehow captured that verse — that illustrated Jesus in His Father, me in Him, and Him in me.When I was done drawing, the reality was so powerful and the sketch so silly, I tossed it in the trash.This defies a diagram.It’s a mystery too beautiful and powerful and strange to depict with pencil and paper.Today I tried to absorb the words, the reality, as I let my body absorb the bread and wine.I’m not going to pick apart the indwelling Spirit or the Trinity.Not today. Not while the bread and wine have fed my cells. Not while the Spirit feeds my soul.Today, a day we choose to rest, I rest in that reality.On this day, I realize that Jesus is in His Father, and I am in Him, and He is in me.