Monday, November 25, 2013

The Bread

I notice the aroma saunter into the meeting room.

My heart feels full by the warm, unexpected embrace. Of what, exactly, is a mystery to me, though still, I count it as grace.

I discover cinnamon rolls baking warm. A coworker remembers I am now gluten-free and remarks about the aroma as cruel. I smile because I used to think that, too. 

To work in a building where there is an oven . . . to bite into such a sweet smell . . .

These are gifts that I count. And they are enough.

This past year has been a journey of learning a new way of life, a process of grieving an old way, of surrendering my human wants, and accepting my truer needs.

I resented what it seemed as though others could freely have. 

Just feeling good and grateful with what I have wasn't enough. I'd let fear be my guide and reach for comfort in places that ultimately just caused me pain, leaving me empty and never quite full.

Fear would mask itself as stress, an excuse to tempt me. I'd hungrily devour and intoxicate myself with the promises of comfort, only to pay the ultimate price, leaving me sick for days -- aching and exhausted.

Though hard fought, I finally learned that foods (and other things) lie; that they are false idols of the cruelest kind.

I discovered that what I thought I wanted isn't what I truly want, anyway. 

I now have a willingness, a hunger, a trust for what makes me truly nourished and truly full.

I choose Him: The {Real} Bread.

And now I see . . . the simple noticing of the aroma truly is enough, a kind gift of grace.

this is my worship. 


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1 comment:

  1. This is so true. Our real need isn't comfort in other things, but the Bread of Life, who gives us true Comfort. Thanks for writing these words, Amy.