Jason and I were given a bread machine for our wedding. Out of fear and intimidation, I hid it in the far reaches of my cupboards knowing full well the characteristics a bread-making woman possesses. Bread-making women are neat and clean, wonderfully patient, do not wear eye makeup, speak in a soft and gentle voice, and are wholesome to the core.
Recently, I decided it was time to step out of the stereotype I put myself in and begin trying to do things that hardcore woman have been doing for thousands of years. I even went out and bought every seed of every vegetable that I love and intend to plant them, watch them grow and make myself a salad. My first attempt at making bread went surprisingly well; in fact I loved it so much that I began experimenting with it every week. There is a deep satisfaction in creating a delicious loaf of bread that cannot compete with anything else. The smell of hot homemade bread permeating the kitchen shifts something in our soul. Pulling apart the warm outer crust, revealing the soft fluff inside, and waiting until the cold square of butter melts before it is devoured…provokes something in our flesh. Hot homemade bread represents what is good and right in life. It is meticulously mixed, lovingly kneaded, patiently waited to rise, shared with the people we love and satisfies them in more ways than one.
Last week I was sitting in class after a rough week. I wrecked my car in the snow and paid a huge amount of unexpected money to fix it. I showed up to class the next week exhausted, stressed out, grumpy and irritated. Class was about to start and my friend Christiana stood up faced me and said, “before we start class, I wanted to give you something from all of us.” She handed me an envelope and as I opened it in what seemed to be slow motion due to shock, there was a nest of dollar bills in the bottom. I was frozen with gratitude. My class heard about my car wreck the week before and put together their money to help me pay for my car. I couldn’t pay attention in class for the next few hours because God was speaking to a deep part of me...God sometimes speaks in the most beautiful ways. He speaks in a language that only the human heart understands. The week before, I felt disgusted with myself. Every word that came out of my mouth was judgmental and negative. It was like there was an overwhelming river of trash inside me and it just kept spilling out of my mouth. I prayed, “God, help me change.”
Jesus said, “Man cannot live on bread alone but on every word that God speaks.”
The envelope represented more than money, it was an old friend knocking on my door after I had long forgotten her face. I intimately knew Grace years ago but time and neglect had caused us to become estranged. I realized that sometimes we treat others the way we think we deserve to be treated. I wondered if maybe Grace had left me, which left me with none of her to give away.
Soaking in this undeserving grace, I wondered why the people I treated badly would give me an envelope of money. I sat there trying to put a picture to what I was feeling. It suddenly hit me that Grace is like hot bread.
When I first got a taste, I carried it proudly and tried to leave pieces everywhere I went. It came with an all-you-can-eat pass so I had plenty to give out. The scent wafted as I walked. People were attracted to this hot homemade bread because they didn’t get very much of it as a kid, they never saw it on TV, and some were just curious to try it because they had no concept of what it was.
The Webster Dictionary defines grace as a “mercy, pardon, clemency, an act of grace, the unmerited love and favor of God given without being earned.” Jesus explains it like this: “For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, that no one should boast.”
Bread fills our bellies but as I have recently been reminded...the words that God speak fill our soul. Grace is a place where flesh and soul meet. For now on, I will try to not leave the house without my loaf of bread. There are hungry people who may never be fed unless we are willing to share the transforming impact of what God says.
