When I think about bread, I tend to think about gluten. Deprivation. Looking good in my jeans. I don’t think of sustenance or satisfaction. Except tonight I did because, yall, I. Have. Not. Slept. The walls are thin and my bed is terrible and my ears refuse to stay plugged. I am so exhausted and restless and pressured from seemingly every direction. It feels like every sphere of my life currently requires me to bear and endure.
And all day long, God has been reminding me – through Youversion’s verse of the day, through the blissfully bubbled feeling of worship music in earbuds, through the perfectly timed text of my godmother – in due time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. He, Himself is my peace and my joy and my sustenance. The Bread of Life. A metaphor I now, in this moment, deeply appreciate as I munch on a toasted and buttered gluten free bagel that satsifies my need to be fed.