I enjoyed a rather frolicksome game of hide-and-seek with John Paul after church. The game wasn’t his idea—he simply wanted to be with me and I kept vanishing, leaving him to wander around the house calling out “Ababail! Wheah ah you?” Nick gave him a full glass of water which he promptly downed and asked for a second one. I caught wind of it and whisked him off to the potty. His belly sloshed the whole way and we were too late. Needless to say, I refused his plea for another cup of water.
The real treat was when Hall drove up and opened his passenger door for Becki. I’d heard she was in town and that he was coming, and secretly hoped I’d see her. I ran out on the porch to greet them and pretty much grinned like a little kid the whole time they were here. Even though I’ve hardly talked to her or spent much time with her, I can’t help feeling that she’s super special, and wanting to be a part of whatever the Lord has for her. She and Zach simply exude peace.
Today, as I shared in the bread and loaf, His miraculous feeding of five thousand came back to me—with some interesting correlations. Jesus fed five thousand people with a broken loaf. He fed many more than that with His broken body. He gave thanks, broke the bread, and gave it to His disciples to distribute among the multitude. At the last supper, He said, “This is My body, broken for you.” And handed it out to His disciples. In the same way, He chose to share Himself with the world, through His disciples. Each of us has received a piece of Jesus’ broken body, which, miraculously, is enough for us to share with everyone with whom we come into contact. And no matter how much of His grace we pass on, there will still be basketfuls left!
I wish with all my heart I were a gifted evangelist.
Lord, Thou broke Thyself for all,
And I have heard Thy Spirit’s call
To eat of Thee and then to spread
Thy wine of life to those claimed dead.
In laziness I tend to eat
And deem myself a loved elite
Grow fat, and store Thee on a shelf
To hoard and keep for just myself.