Heaven’s Best

The bread of life

Activated - - FRONT PAGE - BY BONITA HELE BONITA HELE IS A FREE­LANCE WRITER AND ED­I­TOR IN THE U.S. AND A MEM­BER OF THE FAM­ILY IN­TER­NA­TIONAL. ■

I WAS FIF­TEEN AND LOOKED FOR­WARD TO FRI­DAYS, as it meant a trip to the beach. Ev­ery week dur­ing the sum­mer, our youth group put on an im­promptu per­for­mance of songs and skits on the board­walk to share the mes­sage of God’s love with those pass­ing by.

One Fri­day we re­ceived a large do­na­tion of bread and pas­tries from a lo­cal bak­ery. “Let’s take it to the beach,” some­one sug­gested. When we ar­rived and an­nounced free loaves and pas­tries, a small crowd of needy and worn-look­ing peo­ple de­scended on our group. Most grate­fully took what was of­fered, although two grum­bled that their fa­vorite va­ri­ety of bread wasn’t amongst those of­fered. They re­fused what we had avail­able to give, and walked off empty-handed, still grum­bling.

Later, a young woman ap­proached. She was push­ing a dou­ble stroller, filled with not only two chil­dren, but what looked to be all her earthly pos­ses­sions. “I heard you were giv­ing away bread.” Her voice sounded al­most des­per­ate, like her life might have been. A wide-eyed tod­dler watched silently from his car­riage while a baby slept fit­fully. Their clothes looked fairly new, but the things packed into ev­ery spare inch of the stroller sug­gested that the woman had no place to stay.

I gath­ered the re­main­ing food into a bag—some muffins, a cou­ple of loaves—and gave it to her. She didn’t even look to see what was in­side but thanked me pro­fusely.

One of my friends be­gan a con­ver­sa­tion with the young mother. I turned to pack up but heard enough of it to un­der­stand that he gave her the lo­ca­tion of a woman’s shel­ter and money to get there. I was glad she had come to us, glad she was able to get a bit of help, a bit of hope. I also thought of the two who had left with noth­ing.

The bread of heaven is given freely to all who seek. The times I re­main un­sat­is­fied are the times I do not let it en­ter my heart and fill my soul.

I saw more clearly than ever, that the first great and pri­mary busi­ness to which I ought to at­tend ev­ery day was to have my soul happy in the Lord. The first thing to be con­cerned about was not how I might serve the Lord, how I might glo­rify the Lord, but how I might get my soul into a happy state, and how my in­ner man may be nour­ished. I saw that the most im­por­tant thing I had to do was to give my­self to the read­ing of the Word of God and to med­i­ta­tion of it.

— Ge­orge Müller (1805–1898)

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from International

© PressReader. All rights reserved.