bread broken.

I thought I’d start a fresh week with some real truth.

It’s been hard for me to write here lately because of many things but mostly because it has felt false to come here and share pretty pictures and light type things when the truth is this: I struggle. It’s very much like when Tom and I bicker. I’m horrible at small talk until there is a resolution.

This isn’t some big thing brought on by sickness, tragedy, huge hurting. It’s just the daily type of thing that makes a murky mess of life sometimes. The biggest portion seems to be that in six months my youngest will be in school. On the day he starts it will have been 11 years that I’ve had a small one at my table for lunch, that I’ve tucked tiny toes in for nap time, that I’ve snuggled with pudgy arms mid-morning. I won’t lie. It hurts and I feel full of something akin to opportunity. Mostly, I feel burdened by what is next. It’s a question and I don’t know the answer or if there even has to be a next at all. But everyone seems to be interested in it and I feel a bit like I’m circling something I’m equally afraid of and confused by.

This thread in the woven thing that is my life is pulling everything a bit out of shape and I’ve struggled with some feelings of significance, or really lack of. I know all the right and true things. It’s just that I wear myself out trying to do it right, even the struggling. It seems so silly to type out here that I actually think about whether I do it wrong the right way.

In my Bible study, we’re digging into Mark. This week, I read as Jesus asked Peter who He was. You are the Christ, Peter answered. In tearful contemplation, I’ve wondered what He really is to me.

On Sundays I’ve been making bread. It’s good and I’ve always wanted a bit too much to be like Ma Ingalls. It’s easy and quick and in the course of a few hours, I can have warm bread on a plate. And Jesus is the bread of life. Bread that can only be enjoyed, taken in, when it is broken.

I know that He is broken for me and brokenness in me. And so I’m learning to lean in to the winnowing, allowing Him to bring me to the end of myself and over murky messes so that I will see Him more clearly.

I wonder. Who is Christ to you? In me, He is the end of should be, the beginning and existence of grace, freedom.

17 thoughts on “bread broken.

  1. Well. This is like, my favorite post that you’ve written. And it’s probably because it’s exactly…just exactly where I sit right now. You echo my thoughts precisely, right down to Jesus {for me} being the end of “should be.” So thank you for writing what I can’t quite articulate for myself. This post is like a devotional to begin my day.

    I don’t know when but we are so gonna have to meet up.

  2. I keep a word document where I copy and paste meaningful thoughts and quotes. Just letting you know that I’ve only been following your blog for a short time, but you have a significant presence in that doc. Thanks for not feeling too silly to keep typing.

  3. Friend, oh goodness. It’s been not quite a month since I was laid off from work and that wondering of what is next is strong. What is my significance, other than taking up space in this home? We’ve been trying to make it work for me to stay home, as I thought that is what I wanted, but three weeks in, I am more uncertain than ever of where I belong. I’m so ready to search for any job to be useful again.

    Thank you for reminding me who my identity lies in, for it’s not mine to keep.

    • Well. First, I like you so much. Second, I know this feeling. I do think there is SOMEthing to leaning in to the space, at least for a little bit. You are leaving room for God to make his direction clear. If it’s staying at home, you will be stretched in many ways. If it’s going back to work there will be equal stretching. Both are good, sweet friend.

  4. Dear Heavenly Father: Thank You for Ellen. Thank You for her voice. Thank You for making it possible for words to fly from one person to another in this way. Help us to be brave so as not to waste the space, time, and opportunities You’ve given us. Give us the discernment and drive to face and head in the right directions. We love and trust You. So much. Thank You for our daily bread and for Your Son, whose body was broken for us. Amen.

  5. “This thread in the woven thing that is my life is pulling everything a bit out of shape and I’ve struggled with some feelings of significance, or really lack of.” Oh, those words resonate with me. I was surprised by these feelings as I stopped working and began staying home with my daughter last year. To hear your words on the other side of the spectrum somehow pound at my heart to think of the end of my littles being at home all day.

  6. He is the one who sees me! I say that because when I was far from Him, and I was looking for something and didn’t know what, He brought me to Him. You know, He is a guide. He will lead you where you need to go (or stay). Love your honesty and beauty!!

  7. Finally getting around to catching up on my blogs…I most definitely wanted to be an Ingalls girl growing up. I just love you…for that and oh so many more reasons.

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