A Basket of Bread and The Thirsty Woman

Matthew 14: 13-21  When Jesus arrived, he saw a large crowd. He felt sorry for them and healed those who were sick.

15 Late that afternoon, his followers came to Jesus and said, “No one lives in this place. And it is already late. Send the people away so they can go to the towns and buy food for themselves.”

16 Jesus answered, “They don’t need to go away. You give them some food to eat.”

17 The followers answered, “But we have only five loaves of bread and two fish.”

18 Jesus said, “Bring the bread and the fish to me.” 19 Then he told the people to sit down on the grass. He took the five loaves of bread and the two fish. Then he looked to heaven and thanked God for the food. Jesus divided the loaves of bread. He gave them to his followers, and they gave the bread to the people. 20 All the people ate and were satisfied. After they finished eating, the followers filled 12 baskets with the pieces of food that were not eaten.

The account given of the next day was quite different, again, a large crowd gathers, no doubt with empty bellies, seeking to be fed. But what Jesus offered them this day differed greatly from the previous day and left many quite repelled, freaked out, and even repulsed. Less eager to follow a man proclaiming to be the bread of life, giving instruction to them to eat his flesh and drink his blood, many of them left.

 The beauty in these passages of scripture when Jesus performs miracles is that Jesus never did anything without a two-fold meaning. While he was providing with a loaf of bread, he was also revealing to them that he was the Bread of Life. While he was satisfying a physical hunger that would inevitably return, he was reassuring them that he could also, and ultimately, eternally satisfy a spiritual hunger. 

Yesterday, sitting in church our Pastor referenced the basket of "Bread of Life" that we so often hold in our arms and look at with distress and distrust, as the disciples did that first day, saying, "There isn't enough to go around." It hit me, I do that!! The Bread of Life is in my basket; the Bread of Life that says, "My grace is sufficient." Yet, I look in disbelief, lamenting over the shortage of grace, among many other things, that I am in, specifically where my children and husband are concerned. The Lord reminded me of the Samaritan woman at the well, (read the entire thing in John 4). The conversation goes, in part, like this: 

13 Jesus answered, “Every person who drinks this water will be thirsty again. 14 But whoever drinks the water I give will never be thirsty again. The water I give will become a spring of water flowing inside him. It will give him eternal life.”

15 The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water. Then I will never be thirsty again. And I will not have to come back here to get more water.”

How foolish I am! Here I beheld the Bread of Life, the Living Water, yet insist that I am not satisfied. My heart broke. There is plenty to go around to satisfy with even more left over! Let us be this woman that cries out, "GIVE ME THIS WATER. THEN I WILL NEVER BE THIRSTY AGAIN!" I had to repent and surrender the shame of how stubborn and prideful and just blatantly idiotic in my audacity to pronounce the Bread of Life, The Living Water, The Blood of Redemption, unsatisfactory. Even this morning, I am clinging to this revelation; of my sinfulness, of my insufficiency, of my need for a Savior, of his provision. I cried out to him, "Lord, let me be satisfied in you!" I may be one of the only people who struggle with this, but I have found myself over and over again, broken before the Lord hearing the exact same truth of the state of my heart: unsatisfied. 

I often get myself in a dizzying whirlwind of all my unsatisfied-ness. (I am aware that this is not a word, but it is now.) I start grasping like a mad woman, literally, usually filled with irrational anger and just pure craziness, pulling at Cory to satisfy with me, demanding my children's behaviors satisfy me, looking to our finances to satisfy me; viciously clinging to any material/ physical thing in existence to satisfy this black hole in me. And this is where I am reminded of the woman in Proverbs 14:1,"The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down."  

I can't remember the countless times, as shameful as this is, that I have bought into the lie that this menial, mundane activity of merely raising children and being a house wife was beneath me, that I was capable of so much more with my life. I can't number the times I have bought into that lie when children are screaming and fighting, when I haven't had one adult conversation the entire day and feel my brain going numb, when I look around at the laundry and dishes piled up, when I see another Facebook mom 'living it up' with all her "ME" time and "meeting HER goals", when I am assaulted by the visions of cereal scattered all over the floor and the trail of toys strung out across the living room leading up and down the stairs. 

And then every time, because he just loves me too much to leave me in this place of deception, precious Jesus gently crushes my heart with a reminder of my brokenness and the heavenly measures he went to to save me from ME. He reminds of how he lowered himself to a place far 'beneath' his great worth and holiness. He reminds me of all my filthy rags that are my righteousness before him. He reminds me of the greatest commission to "Go, and make disciples", and how he has provided four perfect specimens of disciples-in-the-making in my living room, that they are the arrows in the hand of this warrior- that I will never have a greater accomplishment that raising them to love Him. He reminds me that he is the Living Bread and that I am wholly satisfied in Him. 

This morning I woke up, looking into my basket and begging him to make my heart believe that I am satisfied, because sometimes, most times, my heart is my worst enemy, and I need him to be bigger than the mirages my heart manufactures. I need him to be better than all the things my flesh, the enemy, our culture, social media and the brokenness of the world tells me are better than being right in the middle of His will and His way. I hate dying to myself. I hate it. It's more than difficult, it is excruciating, but in the precious, moments when I fall flat on my face and peer up at my suffering through the eyes of Jesus, I get a glimpse of sharing in the suffering, death and resurrection of Christ. And isn't that how it should be? Shouldn't this gospel story flesh itself out in my life every single morning, every single minute of every single day? In the morning when I wake up and choose Jesus instead of looking, robotically at my iPhone, checking emails, Instagram and Facebook. My first waking thought being the overwhelming confession that I can not make it through this day or do anything without his enabling me with his grace to do so. I am not exaggerating, you guys, I absolutely, desperately need Jesus always, or I am a rogue missile, headed for destruction, off the map, I'm done, I quit life. 

May my encouragement as a fellow laborer, a fellow warrior in the trenches beside you be this:  as you stare into your basket today, wondering if it is enough, know that the Bread of Life satisfies and there is enough to go around and then some! When you don't believe it, cry out to him to make your heart believe. 

From Crisis to Crucifixion

Disclaimer: I have no idea how long this will be, it's been a while since I've been inspired to write and I hope you can bear with me. 

Now, I am no biblical scholar or theologian, but I would like to start here, with the account of Jesus' prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. 

Luke 22:39-46
And he came out and went, pas was his custom, to qthe Mount of Olives, and the disciples followed him. 40 rAnd when he came to sthe place, he said to them, t“Pray that you may not uenter into temptation.” 41 And he withdrew from them about a stone's throw, and vknelt down and prayed, 42 saying, w“Father, if you are willing, remove xthis cup from me. yNevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” 43 And there appeared to him zan angel from heaven, strengthening him. 44 And wbeing in an agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.7 45 And when he rose from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping for sorrow, 46 and he said to them, “Why are you sleeping? Rise and apray that you may not enter into temptation.”

Matthew 26:36-46

36 Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” 37 He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedeealong with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. 38 Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”

39 Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

40 Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Couldn’t you men keep watch with me for one hour?” he asked Peter. 41 “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

42 He went away a second time and prayed, “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.”

43 When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. 44 So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.

45 Then he returned to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Look, the hour has come, and the Son of Man is delivered into the hands of sinners. 46 Rise! Let us go! Here comes my betrayer!”

A CRISIS is defined as follows:

                 1. a stage in a sequence of events at which the trend of all future events, especially for better or for worse, is determined; turning point.

          2. a dramatic emotional or circumstantial upheaval in a person's life.

I would dare to say what Jesus experienced here felt, to his flesh, much like a crisis, at the very least, I would have be tempted to declare crisis mode. 

Over the past six months most of anyone who hasn't hidden my posts due to a disdain for an overload of children or Jesus natured posts knows that we have taken on the circus-like feat of 7 children. This, to me, has felt much like a crisis. Hear me out before you judge what I just said. There are absolutely countless things that are far worse and heart breaking than someone raising children. No one in my home has died, been diagnosed with life threatening illness, been thrust into poverty or homelessness due to loss of income, or any of the life altering hardships that plague many, many people all over the world. We are well provided for, well loved, well supported and of good health. My life is, to the naked eye "hash tagged, blessed, you know?"( I say that with oozing sarcasm and satire, the deep misuse and misunderstanding of 'blessings' so frequently spouted like rainbow colored vomit is another blog altogether.) 

As I've mentioned many times before, anyone who knows me well enough knows that my calling to mother is a stretch by all means and something only the supernatural grace of God can accomplish through me. I'm basically an empty vessel in this arena, I have nothing to offer or add of my own in this area of expertise. I'm not naturally inclined to compassion, self-sacrifice, lack of sleep, poop, vomit or well, by-passing my insecure, co-dependent, broken, narcissistic, reckless propensities to provide for and nurture a plant, much less tiny human beings. But, here I am. 

I went into this fully confident in the fact that my life, my marriage and my desire to mother were well constructed, shiny and polished. I was in such a great place, exercised such self-control and was capable of keeping a somewhat substantial amount of order in my life. I was a part of an amazing church family, never missed a service and frequently found time for delving into God's word and praying when I felt like I needed to.  I was on top of everything and following through with this unexpected call to love on these three bonus babies in complete obedience and faith that God was orchestrating this entire thing and certain that I would come through victorious and over flowing with peace and joy. Self, "I just wish you weren't a liar."(Will Ferrel SNL reference, you're welcome.) I built a mansion of glass windows with my abundance of self righteousness, in my ignorance to the true destitution I was in; so proud of my humility and martyrdom. (Oxymorons at their best! Emphasis on the moron.) 

If you've ever squeezed a lemon or have an ounce of deductive reasoning in your head, you know when you squeeze a lemon, you get lemon juice. If you squeezed a lemon and sulfuric acid trickled out onto your hand and dribbled down your wrist, you might be quite surprised, maybe a little confused and perhaps, somewhat wounded. 

So, here I am, this bright yellow lemon. I get squeezed and much to my amazement, I'm leaking this corrosive substance onto everyone and everything in my life. 

This isn't how it was supposed to be. I was being obedient, I was being full of faith. I had put my quarter in and was expecting a big pink gum ball.  I had done my part- now when was he going to do his? I was sacrificing myself and Jesus wasn't coming through for me. Where was he? Why was he allowing this circumstance that HE called me to to press me, to produce toxicity?? (Self, again, "I just wish you weren't a liar.") 

And then, a moment of great, ugly clarity- When you are pressed and something ugly comes out, that ugliness, that toxicity  isn't being produced by the circumstance, it's being exposed by it. The bitterness, the doubt, the self reliance, the self righteousness, the judgment, the hatred, the unloving, unkind lack of grace and patience that joins the party is already resident in your heart. It wasn't invited in, it already lives there. 

Yikes. Stick that in your juice box and choke it down. Ouch. and Yuk. 

Luke 6:45

"The good person out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure produces evil, for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks."

Is anyone else here limping with me?

I can't even do justice to the broken, desperate state I've been in during this unraveling process. Crazy is a word my husband and children would probably use. I began finding holes in everything. In my marriage, in my roles as a wife and mother, in my motivations, in the position of my heart towards those who needed grace, in my prayer life, in my faith.... you name it, it was as hole ridden as a colander and I my entire existence was being sifted through it and then poured into a fire. Ashes began to scatter. 

The distance I stumbled upon between my existence and the biblical promise and command of life in the spirit was staggering. Something was missing. I often have a phrase infiltrate my thoughts, "It didn't take." (Self, "I just wish you weren't a liar.) 

I have exceptionally dark hair, I never get to do anything 'fun' with it because I would have to completely damage my hair to get it to be any exciting color, and by nature, I am a control freak with a phobia of commitment, so I don't do it. Before I discovered that at-home-dye-in-a-box was in fact a natural disaster you could purchase from a Walmart shelf, I attempted a few times to transform my loathsome locks into something more 'fun'. You guessed it, with my very limited knowledge of all things hair and lack of informed decision making skills combined with impulse driven actions, it always resulted in the same out come. It didn't take. There is this red filler stuff and gauges of color warmth and all that jazz that I now leave up to the professionals. 

All of that to say, this is seemingly what I had reduced my interaction with, personal response to and transformation through Christ down to. This systematic dye that camouflaged my flesh, that often times I would discover hadn't taken. I know, perhaps I am the only one who stumbles and fumbles and staggers blindly through this whole following Jesus thing in this magnitude of incompetence and ignorance, but just maybe, there are those of you out there who wake up wrestling the worst of  yourself every day. I mean, struggle-from-the-first-thought-that-enters-my-mind-before-my-eyes-even-open kind of wrestling match. So, these confessions are for you. You aren't alone in the Suck Squad and He is faithful.

I would venture to say that everyone finds themselves in this place that we opened up with, the Garden of Gethsemane. Gethsemane is a combination of two Hebrew words, GAT (means wine press) and SHMANIM (means oils) , it is taken to mean "the place where olive oil is pressed'', the literal translation is "winepress of oils".

 "At an olive press, olives were gathered into rough sacks and stacked one on top of another. A beam was lowered onto the stack and increasing weight was added to the end of the beam to press oil from the olives. The more pressure, the more oil." Sounds fun, doesn't it. 

So, we are starting to get the picture here, pressing, oil producing. 

I found this when studying this account of Jesus in the garden:

"Olive oil, in the symbolism of the Bible, is a picture of the presence of the Spirit of God (Gen 28:16-18 ). Oil was used for anointing priests ( Exo 29:7 and Lev 8:12 ), and kings (1 Sam 10:1 and 2 Sam 2:4 ). It was also used to bring light ( Exo 27:20 ) from the menorah in the Tabernacle in the wilderness."

Our pressing is productive. Our pressing is for our benefit and for the glory of our Lord and Savior. 

Hebrews 12 is one of my favorite passages of scripture. I am debating rather or not to post the entire thing, but I do want you to finish reading this, so I strongly suggest you look it up and read it. Maybe now. 

Here are a few excerpts:

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and wsin which clings so closely, and xlet us run ywith endurance the race that is zset before us, 2 looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, awho for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising bthe shame, and cis seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or efainthearted. 4 In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. 5 And have you forgotten the exhortation that addresses you as sons?

It is for discipline that you have to endure. iGod is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?

For they disciplined us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but he disciplines us for our good, mthat we may share his holiness. 11 nFor the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields othe peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.

12 Therefore plift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, 13 and qmake straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint rbut rather be healed."

We are called to endure, for what purpose are we called to endure? For discipline. This does not mean God punishes us to teach us a lesson. There is no cruel connotation to this word. The King James version uses the word "chastise". The greek word is 'paideuo', thankfully you are not sitting here with me listening to me try to pronounce it. The word means, "instruct, train, educate, as an on-going matter, in accord with rules and proper conduct...". This process of enduring for the sake of discipline is to purge our hearts, our lives, of anything that brings us death, it is for the purpose of aligning us with his word to produce his own character in us. In short, it is to make us look more like him. The writer even concurs with the conclusion of our experience, "For the moment all discipline seems painful, rather than pleasing..." Without uncertainty we can agree. 

Because I am being honest with you, I will divulge something terribly selfish. There have been moments of vicious defeat and desperation in the past two months that I have thought, "I am going to have to ask CPS to place the children with another family." Some very unpleasant things were brought to the surface of my heart during this long season of sifting, pruning and purifying and it's not over yet, but at the very least, I have begun to see with sight that is not clouded by self justification and toleration of my own sin. Here's where I would like qualify what we call 'sin'. Most of us good, righteous Christians declaring salvation given to us through Calvary probably consider sin all the grimy things in our past that we are forgiven for, or the grimy behavior of a family member or neighbor that looks like having an affair, doing drugs, stealing, having an abortion, being a terrorist, hating the military, casual sex, cussing, drinking, maybe even dancing. (I took a few jabs there, sorry.) I don't know, but we would like to consider sin a type of debauchery that is far removed from us and reserve the right to judge the sin of others. The sin that we have tucked away in the dark corners of our heart may surprise you when it is uncovered and given a name. 

The most common translation for sin in the New Testament simply means, "Usually any act contrary to the will and law of God." So that levels the playing field quite a bit, now. 

Here are some examples of the logs  we ignore protruding from our own eye while we are busy gawking at the splinter in our neighbor's eye. 

Gossip?

Ephesians 4:29  Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.

Judgement?

James 4:12 There is only one lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and to destroy. But who are you to judge your neighbor?

Thought patterns of worry, condemnation, fault finding?

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

The list is on going, the point is, no one will ever be holy enough to concern themselves with another's unrighteousness, and we should begin as David did before the Lord, in Psalm 139, "Search me, O God, and know my heart. Try me and know my thoughts, and see if there be any offensive way in me, lead me in the way everlasting." Are we so bold, (as Hebrews 4:16 urges us, Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need) to approach the throne of grace with confidence and be known by our Savior, Creator, to be exposed before him and placed into the consuming fire of his grace? Anything in us that is not Christ like, that does not line up with what the Bible tells us to be true about life in the spirit is sin in our lives. 

We like to justify our pet sin, we even give it a cute pet name, deceiving ourselves so that we never have to see it the way God does. Pornography, even in the form of novels? Gossip under the guise of prayerful concern? Being impatient and harsh with our children? Berating the waitress who got our order wrong? Yelling at the person who cut us off? Being un-submissive (and I don't mean submissive in the Stepford Wives way), and disrespectful to our husbands, usurping his authority  with our children, being dishonest concerning money issues, emasculating him with our words? Refusing to forgive someone who has wronged us? We have dozens of reasons why it's ok for us to live out of accordance with the word. It's sin. Call it what it is and allow the Lord to rid your heart of it. Freedom with a price is far better than comfortable bondage.

Along the way, I've had to come face to face with the sin that I was tolerating in my own heart. I've had to obey the Lord, deny my flesh and endure the instruction of his will and word. I'm having to endure until the yielding of the peaceful fruit of righteousness. I'm having to embrace the truth about myself, about my need, about my lack and about who Jesus is.  I'm having to "lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and  run with endurance the race that is set before me, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of my faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."  

Back to our garden, the moment of being pressed beyond all grief, the moment the weight sets in and we cry out desperately pleading to the Lord to remove the cup, that single, solitary moment that stands between me and being lead to the cross. This is it, I know what lies before me, the unimaginable pain, the sacrifice, the precious cost, the temptation to succumb to fear, to finger pointing, to accusing God of being anything other than what he says he is.  The temptation to succumb to a crisis of faith, of identity..... a decision to say, "Nevertheless, not my will but yours." Earlier I explained that Gethsemane means "oil press", the more pressure, the more oil. May that be the case with us. With me. May the pressing produce an oil, an ointment of hope, of grace, of peace, of love that is the Holy Spirit. May my perceived crisis lead me to the cross for the crucifixion of self. 
“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." Matthew 16:24-26