I’ve been thinking a lot about bread lately. Maybe because I’ve been eating way too much of it. We’ve been on the go a lot, and that translates to grabbing whatever is quick and easy, either at home or on the road. And easy often means sandwiches, made with bread, chicken covered in deep-fried breading, and even the occasional doughnut. And we mustn’t forget the tantalizing pizza. Truth be told, I love all these things, but when they happen too often, my body begins to feel sluggish telling me it’s time for an infusion of salad or fresh fruits and veggies.

When did our disdain for carbs become a way of life. Our ancestors subsisted on bread made from whatever grain was available, hard tack, cornbread, johnny cakes—by any name, it was bread of sorts. Later, wheat became the staple grain used in bread making but it was a coarser version of the whole wheat bread we eat today, the kernels ground between millstones. As better milling equipment was invented and the industrial revolution took hold, wheat was ground into pure white flour. White bread swept the nation, the softer and smoother, the better. My generation and maybe another after us grew up on white bread. A certain number of wrappers from a certain brand-named white bread could even get us into the Saturday afternoon matinee at our local theater. Bring on the PB, & J!

I recall, in the late 1980s, our family doctor informing Ken and myself that the cholesterol level in our bodies was high. We had no idea what cholesterol was, but the doctor convinced us that if we didn’t adopt wheat bread into our diet and cut out anything else made from white flour, we were a heart attack waiting for a place to happen. That was all the warning I needed—whole wheat bread became the staple of our kitchen and even that was used sparingly. And, somewhere along the line, all the other white things we loved were removed from our diet; potatoes, rice, pasta (That was a hard one. We tried the whole wheat version, but it just wasn’t the same.) Today, our doctor wants us to eliminate even the whole wheat versions, claiming that bread of any variety is bad for the body.

Over the last twenty five to thirty years, opinions regarding which foods are healthy for the human body have undergone many changes, but the notion that carbs, particularly those that are derived from grain products, are simply not acceptable dietary components. In our household, we go with the belief that all foods should be eaten in moderation. But still, we miss those hot, fluffy, buttered rolls fresh from the oven, so every now and then we offer ourselves a treat. We may, or may not, possess the will power to remove homemade bread from our diets completely, but there is another bread that needs to remain constant.

I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Anyone who eats this bread will live forever;

and this bread, which I will offer so the world may live, is my flesh. John 6:51 NLT

These are Jesus’ own words. We hear His promise of life every time we celebrate Communion.

On the night when he was betrayed, the Lord Jesus took some bread and gave thanks to God for it.

Then he broke it in pieces and said, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.

I Corinthians 11:23b-24

Our bodies will typically warn us when we have consumed too many of the dreaded carbs, but Jesus is Bread we can indulge freely. He invites us to sample the “bread” often. Talk to Him, study the Father’s Word, fill ourselves so full of Him that it spills over onto all those around us. It is our mission to go and make disciples but that can only become a reality when we really get to know Jesus and are filled with His goodness, grace and mercy. So go ahead—be a glutton in your search for the Bread of Life!

Make sure you receive the bread. And once you do, pass it on. After all, if we don’t, who will?

Max Lucado, Outlive Your Life

I am the true grapevine and my Father is the gardener. John 15:1

A few weeks ago, as we were deep in contemplation about Jesus’ journey to the cross and awaiting the greatest miracle of all time, His resurrection, other smaller miracles were happening all around us. Spring was making its appearance, first in tiny, tentative steps, and then it seemed to virtually gallop onto the pages of our lives. There were crocus and daffodils, redbud and dogwood, wildflowers and perennials in countless varieties. So much beauty! One of the earliest flowering trees is the Bradford Pear or, as its common ancestor is known, the Callery Pear, Pyrus Callerana.

Not so many years ago, every new home plan included at least one Bradford Pear tree. They grew quickly, in no small part because of their long growing season, their lovely white spring blooms creating a visual balm for winter-weary eyes. They lasted longer into fall than many of our other trees as well, and delighted us with a myriad of autumn colors.

But there is a “however” to their description. Bradford Pears are not a native species, and just like other non-natives that have been introduced into our environment, they have become very invasive. They are a hybrid cultivar bred to be sterile but have proven to have an ability to overcome that barrier. Birds cross-pollinate them with neighboring trees, often causing a return to many of the attributes displayed by their ancestor, the Callery, one nasty quality being very spiny thorns. Once the trees establish themselves in the wild and multiply, those very thorns make them difficult to eradicate. They also spring up new shoots from their roots and can quickly overtake open fields. Thus, because the Bradford gets a head start in very early spring, many of our lovely natives are being crowded out.

And let us not forget, as many of our neighbors have been learning lately, the structure of the Bradford is not conducive to providing strength. All its limbs spring forth from one central location and grow upward rather than alternately growing from a thicker main trunk and spreading outward. The central conjunction of all those branches invites moisture, eventually producing rotted wood. This unique pattern makes the species weak and easily broken when covered in ice and snow or battered by strong winds. Many a home has been invaded by a Bradford branch during one of our powerful and unpredictable weather systems. It’s not unusual to see half a tree where there once stood a lovely Bradford.

The once popular Bradford Pear has been banned in the states of Ohio, Pennsylvania, and South Carolina. Missouri is making its bid to eradicate this “beautiful pest” from our lawns and fields. They offer a buy-back program that provides a start of a native tree to residents who can verify that they have removed a Bradford from their property.

At some point during my Lenten readings, I was happy to see one of my favorite scriptures as the reference for that particular devotion. The early verses of John 15, in Jesus’ own words, carry such a reassuring promise when He refers to himself as the vine and us as the branches. As long as we remain attached to the vine, we will be sheltered and protected. We will produce much fruit. But, tucked within Jesus’ encouraging words is a warning, and the author of this devotion chose the warning to illustrate a point. If we choose to detach ourselves from the vine, we become useless and will be cast aside to be burned. I began to see this well-loved scripture in a new light.

Anyone who does not remain in me is thrown away like a useless branch and withers. Such branches are gathered into a pile to be burned. John 15:6

It is difficult to relate the beauty of the earlier verses to the overarching threat of the second part. But the truth is we can be seduced by the world to break away from the vine. But….

Remain in me and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce (good) fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me. John 15:4

The Bradford Pear tree certainly provides beauty, but its invasive nature and ability to adapt to changing conditions pose a serious threat to our environment, and so it must be removed. Similarly, the life that we have in Jesus can be contaminated by outside forces that want to lure us away. We must be on our guard and hold tightly to the vine, not let invasive habits entangle our thinking and worm their way into the patterns of our lives. A strong and constant relationship with Jesus nestles us within the protective arms of the Father and ensures a place for us in eternity. The world may try to eradicate Christianity, but healthy branches attached to a strong vine can overcome anything the world has to offer. I like the idea of Jesus being the gardener of my life…don’t you?

Faith is the reality of what we hope for, the proof of what we don’t see. Hebrews 11:1

If it weren’t for the fact that I’ll have to start all over again tomorrow, I’d be exceedingly relieved that this weekend is nearly over. Just hours left of this day as I try to write something coherent for this week’s E-blast. And since the problems we’re facing aren’t going away anytime soon, I hope, maybe I can find a message in them.

The good news is that Saturday, Ken ran all over our little town of Clever checking out the offerings at our city-wide garage sale and making some new friends along the way, while I stayed home, puttering in the yard, reorganizing closets, and catching up on laundry. And just when I was about to label it a pretty good day, I failed in my attempt to set up our new printer, and suddenly our ice maker made a ferocious sound that signaled it was giving up. “Why now?” I thought.

I’ve no idea why the printer is being so ornery…it works just fine with my MacBook, but the iPad and phone are a very different story. The devices recognize the printer, and the printer receives the order to print and displays it on the touchscreen, but it does nothing except buffer. The Wi-Fi connection is strong, and I’ve checked all the recommended settings. I cannot find the problem, so I suppose I will have a conversation with a Geek Squad member tomorrow. Isn’t that a lovely prospect for a Monday morning? Sometime before or after that call, one of us must contact Whirlpool to see if they can enlighten us regarding the ice-maker issue. If that is unsuccessful, the next call will be a local repair service. And to top it off, another service call needs to be made to our stove manufacturer. And these are all either new or nearly new appliances. I dare not ask, “What next?”

In the grand scheme of things, these are all fairly minor issues, but when they came all at once and I’m running on very little sleep and we had a church meeting Sunday afternoon that made it a very long day, it’s kind of caught up with me, or maybe overtaken me would be a better description.

While our mundane problems are, hopefully, short-term, there are much bigger things at stake in our lives. Our culture is trying in very inventive and seductive ways to divert our attention away from Jesus, to shove our faith into obscurity. No sooner have we suffered through the memory of a crucifixion and then praised God for the resurrection of His son, than we hear horrific news stories about how God’s children are behaving toward one another. It seems we had little time to embrace the enormity of the gift we were given when evil slipped right back into our midst.

I often wonder how God tolerates His children, but I’m so very grateful that He does. We can’t control the things that happen in life, but we can control our responses to them. I’m the first to admit that I have “occasionally gone a tad overboard” when troubles seemed “to pile on.” When I reflect, it hasn’t been that many years since I didn’t have an ice-maker and certainly never heard of a thing called the internet. We forget sometimes how blessed we are. And we may even wonder how a heavenly being could possibly assist us with everyday maintenance issues with products that should seem foreign to Him. We forget that He has the master plan for everything, and His wisdom can lead us to the answers to what we need and keep us calm as we seek those answers. We can’t do everything alone. Sometimes we possess the necessary skills to help others with their problems, and sometimes we require the skills of someone else to help us. But we always have Jesus at our side to help in ways no one else can. Detours in our daily lives often become opportunities to strengthen our bond with the One we should always turn to first…if I could just remember that.

Today’s inconveniences will pass, perhaps they’ll even become tomorrow’s opportunities, and I need to keep my eye on the prize. Jesus died that I might live eternally with Him, but also to offer me peace and understanding along my life’s journey, in the good times and the not-so-good ones.

He did it for you, too.

Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. Philippians 4:6-7 (MSG)

The time has come. The promise that began in Bethlehem some thirty-three years earlier is nearing fruition. A great storm is brewing—not the kind we experience here in the Ozarks in springtime—but an emotional storm of doubt and betrayal. Just a few days earlier, Jesus had been heralded as a king and now, the same crowd has adopted a mob mentality. Just a few rabble-rousers turned worshippers into haters, clamoring for the death of a man who had never committed a crime. And the kangaroo court allowed it to happen.

A mob acts out of emotion, absent facts, absent contemplation, and mostly absent responsibility. What they get in return is anonymity. Conscience can be exhausting. Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird

An angry mob, incited to riot by a few well-placed rumors, by signs accusing someone of something, whether true or not, some targeted comments from the rear of the crowd or social media posts. We’ve seen much of that in recent years, filling our TV screens and flooding the twenty-four-hour streaming newscasts. Our instant communication makes it much easier and farther-reaching than in Jesus’ day. In seconds venomous statements and actions can reach millions of people. I wonder how quickly our current culture would sentence Jesus to death row. And how many of the antagonists would even know why? Or would they just be caught up in the frenzy?

God put the wrong on him who never did anything wrong, so we could be put right with God. II Corinthians 5:21 MSG.

So, the mechanics were set in motion. Jesus would be beaten to within an inch of death. He would be ordered to carry his own cross to the hill where he would be executed. Once there, beaten and bloodied, he would be laid upon the cross and, as the nails pierced his hands, he saw before his eyes every sin that you or I would ever commit. With the nails in place, the cross was raised and his weight fell upon the nails. For six long hours, he hung there in excruciating agony, he was hungry for he hadn’t eaten since the night before. He was thirsty and dehydrated, yet he asked for nothing.

He spoke few words, but those he did utter, were meaningful. To me, the most poignant were the three words, “It is finished.” All the planning since the beginning of time, all the mistakes made by all humans, then and before them, and all that would ever be, came down to that one moment. We can never imagine the weight he took upon himself just to bear our sins.

The day had become dark as night and the heavens roared in anger that this perfect one had to die. And at the instant when he breathed his last breath, the temple curtain was torn in half. The curtain that separated man from God was no more. Jesus had opened the pathway for all mankind to come freely to Him who would forever be our guide, our comforter, our merciful friend, our Savior.

Those three final words signaled not only Jesus’ human death but also eliminated the middleman. We could speak to God directly and He would hear every word.

When I’m tempted to doubt how much He loves me, I remember how Jesus put aside His human emotions, stayed the course, did the will of His Father, and kept going…for you and me. Erin Keeley Marshall, Mornings with Jesus 2025

Once again a puzzle very clearly illustrated a truth about all mankind.

But, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Our tale begins this past week when Ken and I began a great new challenge; a beautiful, but slightly used, puzzle shaped like a large lighthouse that contained paintings of multiple smaller lighthouses within its borders. Understand that I am a major admirer of real-life lighthouses. If I discover we’re within a hundred miles of one, I’m ready for a detour from our planned route. So I was really anxious to see this project completed. About halfway into the construction of the puzzle, I began to have doubts that one of the key pieces had been in the box. This sometimes occurs with our flea market finds.

As we neared the end, the piece was obviously missing. I get really frustrated when that happens and I was so disappointed that I was ready to tear our puzzle apart so I wouldn’t have to see it again. But we finished and, as I walked past the table a little later and grabbed a quick glance at those beautiful lighthouses, a thought struck me. Our puzzle was still beautiful though imperfect.

And that led me to the shocking reminder that I am also imperfect. Each of is imperfect in our own way, some more than others, but Jesus doesn’t care. He’ll sit down to dinner with any one of us, walk through our deepest valleys with us, follow us into our messiest mistakes, hoping that He can turn us around.

That’s why He chose the cross. He could have decided, after living among us, to follow in Joseph’s footsteps and become a carpenter. He didn’t have to reveal his identity or leave the home he’d grown up in. He wasn’t forced to abandon an assumed partnership with his earthly father. No one enticed him to walk away from the love of his faithful family. He had experienced a nice, cozy life in Nazareth…why would he want to leave?

Simple. He was no ordinary human and he was not intended to be a carpenter. He lived a very human life but he was the Son of God. I’ve heard people say that if Judas had not betrayed him, Jesus wouldn’t have had to die as a young man.

That kind of reasoning denies God’s omniscience. Before time began, before there was an earth, before humans existed, our God knew that his human creations would stray from his presence and develop many imperfections. But he loves us and chose to also create a path back to Him. Through the greatest sacrifice ever known or imagined, God asked his own son, Jesus, to bear all our imperfections in one incredible act of mercy so that our path to heaven would be cleared. And Jesus accepted his mission.

For God saved us and called us to live a holy life. He did this, not because we deserved it, but because that was his plan from the beginning of time—to show us his grace through Christ Jesus. I Timothy 1:9

God loved us so much that he was willing to place his Son on a cross for us. Forgiveness of our imperfections was dependent upon the success of God’s plan. But he needed a co-conspirator to set the plan in motion, and who should step up and volunteer? One of Jesus’ own followers. I believe there is significance in that deceitful act. It points to the truth of our imperfection. One man, who traveled everywhere with Jesus in his three-year ministry and earned the trust of the other disciples, turned on Jesus for the promise of a few coins.

How often do we, in a moment of weakness, turn away from God for the lure of something better, bigger, more impressive, more fun? Judas represented all of us. But God gave us a way back. Now the choice is in our hands. Who do we follow?

But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still (imperfect) sinners. Romans 5:8

That puzzle, with its one very obvious flaw, is back in its box. But when I think of it, I no longer see its imperfection. I see charming lighthouses I’d love to visit, towers I’d like to climb, and views from the top that would be awesome, and I can imagine the tales their walls would tell if they could talk.

And when a person I encounter displays an imperfection, I would hope that I might not even notice. After all, beauty really is in the eye of the beholder. Jesus loves me with all my imperfections and sees me as beautiful. Who am I to notice imperfections in others?

And walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. Ephesians 5-2

I don’t know about you, but as I age, I’m noticing that my body is not so tolerant of the foods I’ve enjoyed over the years. I love seasonings, not hot peppers mind you, but all the sweet and savory herbs and spices that give the foods we eat a little extra zing. More and more, though, I live to regret my exuberant excesses of culinary freedom.

In like manner, my skin is less tolerant of heavily scented lotions, soaps, shampoos, and laundry products. I find myself shopping for “free and clear” or “sensitive” labels.

Shopping with my granddaughter is always an adventure. At fourteen, she is obsessed with the scent and constantly pressing a candle, perfume, or lotion under my nose. “Smell this one, Grandma!” My senses quickly fall into overload territory, and I have to back off a bit.

However, when I’m back at home and breathe in a generous whiff of lilac fragrance, I’m likely to feel some heavy-duty sinus pressure as a result of my indulgence. It’s worth it though…lilacs only bloom once a year and for a very short time so I’ll just have to bite the bullet

A myriad of scents tickle our noses every day. The scent of spring rain in our Ozark hills or salt water on the beach. A newborn baby all washed and clean, the scent of children at play, earthy and slightly rank. At special times there’s the tantalizing smell of traditional holiday foods, greenery on the mantle, the celebratory gunpowder cloud following a gigantic display of fireworks. There are scents that provide warning like smoke that tells us fire is nearby or the spray of a skunk that simply says it’s time to leave. That same sweet-smelling newborn baby can create a terrible odor indicating a diaper change is needed.

Life is an adventure of scents, both good and not-so-good. And we all like a little spice or perfume in our days, like the lively “discussions” that arise when family gets together or the reward of friendships that endure the test of time. Even the offensive fragrances in our lives help to guide us.

I’ve lately been fascinated by the placement of words like fragrance and aroma in the Bible.

Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. John 12:3

Each of the four Gospels relates a short story about a woman anointing Jesus’ body with a very expensive oil shortly before his death on the cross. There are disagreements and controversies among theologians regarding the identity of the woman and her station in life but I like the way John expresses the act as a sweet tribute to a man who brought nothing but goodness to everyone he met.

If we’d watched the road signs carefully from the beginning of Jesus’ life until the end. If we’d had faith in their validity, we would have known, when the Wise Men brought gifts of frankincense and myrrh to the baby Jesus, spices that honored a king but would also mask the decomposition of human tissues and, some thirty-three years later, when a woman anointed the man called Jesus with precious oil just days before he hung on a cross, that his death would be something extraordinary. But, as humans, we couldn’t see the Divine side of Jesus. He was our close and very human friend and, in our humanness, we assumed that death would be the end of the relationship.

What a blessing to be wrong! Jesus is not dead…he’s very much alive and though he sits beside his Father in heaven, he is also right here, in the midst of our gritty lives and understanding every bit of it because he lived it. In Jesus, we have a dear friend we can trust to always be there and we should be raining down his fragrance from the mountaintops.