24 April 2011

Bread



I baked bread today. Rolls really. Honey wheat to be exact. And they were absolutely divine. Scrumptious. I couldn't help gobbling one over my dinner preparations, smeared with smooth butter. Does it get much better? The moment it reached my mouth I felt that same sweet comfort that baked goods always deliver. Why is that?


How can a mixture of flour and butter and honey and yeast feel like a homecoming? Like nothing has changed. You haven't grown bigger and stronger and wiser yet...haven't faced mounds of bills or empty wallets...overflowing laundry baskets and unruly stubborn tempered little folks who send you for a loop...haven't wondered if you've made the right choices with your moments..given enough to those tender little hearts who always seem to need so much...before you've lost touch with someone you once loved..treasured..counted on...before everything had to have an exact and acceptable purpose..you couldn't just do something because you felt like it..because it looked good..because it made you smile...


Just sitting at a sunlit kitchen table smearing butter on simple bread and enjoying it for what it is. And I thought of love. Of what it means to find something so grand..so special..so worthwhile that everything else stops and you sit and savor it.. Long afternoons seem all too short..the darkness and sleep and silence come too soon..Love so real that you taste it on your tongue..feel it warming your face..its light bouncing in your eyes and giving everything meaning..Like bread.


And I thought of the God..my God who came near to me. Close enough to touch. And he sat and broke bread..simple, humble, ordinary bread with folks like me and he made it..holy. Why he chose something so commonplace to represent himself and us (the ones he loves) never captured me in quite this way before. Something to fill up a hungry belly...warm a cold soul...accent a delicious repast. Something that can keep on being broken and shared many times over. Like his love...like our love...like us..Simple bread.


And on this rapturous day of celebration I can't think of anything I'm more thankful for than the simple and divine gift of bread.






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