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I didn't go to church last weekend, but I think I took Communion. It happened in a motel lobby on a Monday morning with my hair still slightly wet and stringy from the shower and not even a stranger in sight to partake with me. Nevertheless, in spite of it being the wrong place and the wrong time, in spite of looking less presentable than I would usually enter McDonalds, I felt invited. My 86-year old mother, my husband and…