Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Carb Loading // My Favorite Pastime


I am a bread eater. More like bread fanatic. I truly believe that bread may just be my favorite food in the world. If it is a dough product then it is for me. Yes indeed! And I kid you not when I say I probably eat a sandwich every day (or very close to it). Talk about your carb loading. 

So when I read my bible and it starts to mention bread every five seconds, I'm instantly intrigued. I can completely understand why Jesus compares himself to bread by saying,

"I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me
will never be hungry again. Whoever believes in me
will never be thirsty again."

I understand this because in my carboholic mind, I need bread to survive. 
NEED IT. 
(need it)  

And in the same context, I need Jesus to survive and live a life of purpose. But this isn't just information for me, myself, and I, that I get to hold on to and say, "Ok, great! Now I am well cared for. All is good." This knowledge was honestly meant to be shared. And not just through barking scripture at people til they tune you out, but by loving those around me, the way God loves each and every one of us.

So in this whole carb loading off of Jesus, I've learned some important facts about myself.

1) I am impossibly awkward when it comes to talking to strangers who I am suppose to be pouring love into. 

2) I sometimes feel like I may throw up from fear when I am entering a new situation that is uncomfortable for me (especially when I'm alone).

3) When I push myself to do those things anyway, in spite of the awkward, in spite of the fear, God always shows up and makes those moments life changing in the best ways.


Last week I had the opportunity to visit one of the slums in Kampala. My friend Katie was given a nice bit of money from people at home to head out and purchase basic necessities for a few families struggling to provide and she invited me to come along with her. 

Now I want to be completely honest. A very small part of me didn't want to go for the simple fact that I don't really believe in hand outs. I've always preferred giving a hand up (not really sure if that's a real term, but I'm rolling with it). The whole, teach a man to fish, instead of give a man a fish, theory. 

But as I spent some time praying about it, I kept hearing the gentle whisper in my soul,

"I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the
least of these, brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me"

And that's really all I needed to hear. I love me some carby Jesus, and therefore I love me some complete strangers who desperately needed the help that we could provide in that moment. Before we left I shot up a quick prayer, for God to align my heart to His in that moment. For all of my intentions on being there to be focused solely on Him and His love and His grace.


It wasn't a very long day (mainly due to the torrential downpour that simultaneously decided to accompany us that afternoon) but it was a beautiful one. And I'm positive the families that we met and prayed for were truly blessed by the love Jesus showed them. Love that He blessed us with by allowing us to participate on His behalf.

And that my friends filled me right up!


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