Learning to See: The Bread of Life, a meditation on John 6:32-35
As a member of the We Do Not Care Club, my body has changed a lot in my fifties. One thing it doesn't like anymore is bread. I keep trying, but my body keeps saying no. When it hears "bread," it doesn't hear "life."
However, these 52 years have shown me that life begins and ends with Jesus, the Bread of Life. In John 6:32-35, when Jesus describes himself as the Bread of Life, it reminds me of provision, protection, and presence.
When I was younger, I attended a revival in New York City. I had just $20 to my name. I was a proper AME church girl, unfamiliar with this kind of event. When the speaker talked about sowing a $20 seed for God's blessing, I was unprepared for what would happen next. By the time the offering plate came around, I believed God would multiply my $20 a hundredfold. I eagerly put in my last $20, my breakfast money until payday. Back then, that amount gave me $4 a day for a breakfast sandwich and a small coffee. That’s not even possible now, even in the South.
Monday morning arrived, and I still hadn’t received my blessing. I went to work hungry. On the subway, I had an internal dialogue with God. I asked what happened. God presence gave me the revelation I needed.
What I realized is that God had provided the $20, the manna from heaven, just enough for what I needed, but I trusted a human’s word over God’s presence through the provision.
In other words, like the children of Israel, I had put Moses (the vessel) before God (the provider). I realized the $20, which was given to me by someone else, was about stewardship, not storing up a miracle, not focusing on more, but trusting God to protect the provision to last.
I repented as I exited the subway station and continued to work. By then, my hunger was loud. God filled my heart with peace and whispered that even though I didn’t protect what He gave me, He would keep providing.
Five blocks later, I walked into my office lobby to find food everywhere. The landlord was showing appreciation for its tenants by providing breakfast. I unashamedly grabbed enough food for the week and stored my labeled blessings in the office fridge.
Looking back, it’s not that the guest preacher was wrong. I was wrong for not trusting the Holy Spirit in me to guide me in my specific circumstances. I’m sure there were those who received their hundred-fold blessing, but I already had my promise - God’s provision, protection, and presence.