Sustenance (Day 30 of Lent)

When I was in high school, there was a lady name Paul Magee who worked in the front office.  I knew this lady through her son Ryan.  I spent a lot of time at their house, spending the night and mooching food from the pantry.  Ryan and I would get into a lot of trouble drinking, and would frequently get bailed out by Paula.  She had a way about her in which she would make light of somewhat serious situations, like when the cops ambushed the trailer we were drinking in.  All the participating under-age drinkers lined up in front of the trailer as the cops shone flashlights into their eyes.  I, on the other hand, ran like the wind.  I trampled down the hill, through the trees, and hid for several hours.  After seeing that the coast was clear, I made it upstairs to find a bed to pass out in.  

The next morning, when Ryan and I presented our grubby selves to Paul in the living room, she just laughed.  She was one of those people who would let people experience their own demise without having to add her own two cents.  Sometimes, when things got really bad, she would yell with a smile on her face.  She had this vitality about her that let everyone around her know that life was just too short to be serious all the time.  Paul loved her family, and loved all the friends of her family.  She treated both the trouble makers and the good kids with compassion and kindness.  People gravitated to her.  

During my senior year of high school, Paula got cancer.  It was a fast-moving cancer that quickly took her weight, her hair, and her physical abilities.  It took her job as well.  There was one thing it didn't take though - her spirit.  Although the hair thinned and her body became more frail, she still smiled and treated everyone around her with dignity, no matter how much trouble they caused.  She was the rock in the family.  About a year later, she passed away in her bed.  The family had decided to let her breathe her last breath in her own bed, surrounded by the ones who had benefited from her energetic spirit for so many years.  Paula was a second mother to me.  She introduced me to a life-sustaining manna that - even though her physical body was suffering - gave her real and lasting life.  She died with a smile, knowing that nothing could take away the sustenance that kept her alive.  

Although she never really talked about it, she believed in the Bread of Life.  This Bread gave her the childish desire to dance the nights away at Wild West, while cancerous cells drained her physical life.  She was still the ringleader for once a week girls' nights out.  Her belief in Jesus dramatically impacted the way she lived and loved, and gave her the ability to see much further than her "blink of an eye" existence on this earth.  

Jesus claims in today's passage out of John chapter six that he is the Bread of Life, and that whoever eats of this bread will experience real and lasting life - a life that won't get snuffed out.  He says that God is drawing everyone to himself, wooing us with sustenance that lasts.  He says that when we listen and pray to God, that we are actually connecting with him in a way that leads to tangible experience - seeing and hearing him in personal, unique ways.  

The more I delve into the teachings of Jesus, the more I realize that there are no such things as roadblocks anymore.  What used to be problems with no solution are now adventures with many possibilities.  I believe in the Bread of Life without being able to prove anything.  That's all that Jesus invites us to do - believe.  I believe he knows that no one on this earth can possibly come anywhere close to proving anything, but he invites us to take the risk, get out on the ledge.  What could it hurt?  

Jesus says that whoever eats this bread will not die.  Obviously, physical death happens, so what is he talking about here?  I can't help but picture Paula, sitting up on her bed with a smile on her face, knowing that any moment now her last breath will arrive.  She believed that her physical death was just the beginning of an eternal journey.  In fact, she believed early on that her life on earth was already a journey into the eternal, that there would be a transitional period between the two resembling a physical death.  Obviously, she couldn't prove any of this.  But, she sure gave me evidence of what happens to a person who believes.  She showed me that belief directly affects that way in which one lives, without the need for formulas showing how she got from point A to point B.  

I have two pizzas sitting in my refrigerator as I speak, and they've been in there for nearly three weeks.  I'm pretty sure that the sausage has turned green, and the cheese is probably a shade of fuzzy blue.  We live in a world in which everything spoils.  Food, jobs, relationships, hope, and everything under the sun.  Is it possible that there is a way to experience non-spoilage?  Is it possible that believing in the Bread of Life will take away the "sting" of death, decay, and heartache, or at least not let these things be the brick wall in which we can't possibly get around?  

Today's Action:  Examine the different aspects of our lives which have spoiled, or are on their way to ruin (relationships, struggles, etc.)  Is it possible that believing in the Bread of Life can prevent or change our perspective on these situations?  Looking over the list, courageously pray for sustenance that lasts in each circumstance.