break bread, part two.

This post is part of a 31 day journey. See the rest of abide: love where you live right here.

But there’s more to this whole breaking bread thing. It might seem scary or impossible or too hard. It might feel like asking too much. You are busy. You are overwhelmed. You are behind. You feel awkward. You worry about getting picked apart.

What my husband does? Where we live? Who we love? These children? I need them almost more than they need me. I always get their names wrong. I never know the exact right thing to say. I say dumb things. I am skeptical of figures from their past. I fight championing my rights to my husband and our family time. I fail miserably and I’m selfish.

I’m a mess and I need them. I need them to teach me that I am broken just the same.

I need them to remind me that whatever bread I break, it isn’t really mine anyway. It might be my story but I didn’t write it. It might be my time but I didn’t order it. It might be my heart but I didn’t mold it.

Breaking bread is just allowing Christ to be rich in you toward others. It will feel hard, yes. I will be stops and starts, yes. It will be stretching, yes. But it is this: you break open your life and you invite others to the table and you offer them the Bread of Life in you.

You allow them to see how your belonging hunger has been filled and how your worth thirst has been quenched.

And then? Then you take what they offer. You allow them to teach you, help you, love you. You see their vulnerability, really see it. You surrender to this: receiving almost always teaches more than giving.


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