How Hungry Am I for Bread?

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I sat at communion, holding the minuscule cube of bread, waiting for everyone else to be served so we could eat together.

This is a true-size re-creation of my communion bread piece. I did not take a photo during communion, although, honestly, I considered it.
This is a true-size re-creation of my communion bread piece. I did not take a photo during communion, although, honestly, I considered it.

I love bread, went my thoughts. Who could ever possibly be satisfied with this tiny cube of bread?

I pictured a Panera cinnamon crunch bagel. Big. Hefty. Loaded with carbs and calories.

This is my cinnamon crunch bagel, breakfast (or lunch or dinner) for Carol at least once a week.

When I want bread, that’s what I want. Something substantial, something to tear apart, something to sink my teeth into.

So how can I be satisfied with just my little cube of Jesus?

Shouldn’t I be starving for more of him?

And maybe that’s the point. When I get my little cube of communion bread, it should drive me to Jesus, the same way my first bite of the bagel gives me a hunger for more.

When it seems I’m hungering for the temporary things the world uses to entice me—money, stuff, honor, experiences or, yes, even cinnamon crunch bagels—maybe it can serve as a wake-up call that what I really need is a little cube of Jesus. A cube to reawaken my sense of the eternal, the important, the Godhead. A cube to entice me back to the table of moment-by-moment communion with Jesus.

What are you hungry for? Is a cube enough?

 

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