I remember as a child singing the hymn written by James Rowe and titled “Redeemed” with the refrain bouncing off the walls of our country church and settling into my spirit,
I’m redeemed by love divine!
Glory, glory! Christ is mine, Christ is mine!
All to Him I now resign, resign
I have been redeemed, redeemed!
Redemption Parable One day vicious raiders from the north country raided our village. They broke into all our houses, stealing all the precious items our families had worked hard to provide. The men were ruthless and merciless.
It is crazy for an atheist to say he has a purpose. One cannot have a purpose if they are only an accidental biological blob careening through space and time.
We can only have purpose because of God. God has a plan based on a purpose.
When I was in college preparing to be a teacher, we were required to visit schools and observe real-life classroom instruction. I remember visiting a shop class in a school just south of Auburn. The instructor was an older gentlemen not far from retirement with a lot of hard-earned wisdom. I never forgot his instruction to his students, “When we go into the shop, I better not see any of you with your hands in your pockets. You never go on a worksite with your hands in your pockets. Be ready to work and be ready to protect yourself. You hear me! Keep your eyes open and keep your hands out of your pockets! I better not catch any of you with your hands in your pockets!”
Growing up in the South without air conditioning in the 50’s and 60’s was normal for most folks. You do not bemoan the lack of anything if you never have had it; most people in those decades did not have air conditioning in their houses or cars. We had window fans, that gave us a little reprieve on the dog days of summer. Our vehicles had only “4-60” air conditioning—roll all the windows down and drive 60 mph.
I remember taking my beloved Christian brother, Pastor Baptiste, who lives in Haiti, to one of our American all-you-can-eat buffets. There were stations after stations of food. He was amazed at the quantity of food and that he could eat all he wanted. When I was with him in Haiti, I discovered he had told many of his friends about his unbelievable experience at the bountiful restaurant.
I’m sure the phrase, “Stand still, don’t move” has been said million of times in thousands of circumstances. I can hear one of my older brothers using that phrase when we were squirrel hunting. I’m sure a young soldier has heard similar words in a mine field. Perhaps a hiker has heard the same when a rattlesnake was within striking distance of his leg.
I remember as a child hearing the tick-tock of an old mantel clock in the home of one of our elderly kinfolks. At the top of the hour, the clock would make a gong for the number of the hour. It was always a little creepy to me. The passing of time is kind of weird when you think about it, like the whittling off of your life second by second.
Have you ever been in a room full of people, and you knew for all practical purposes you were alone? A few times, I have traveled internationally alone. It is an interesting feeling walking down a foreign airport concourse some 5,000 miles away from anyone you know. It doesn’t really bother me. I love people, but I can also handle solitude.
How could I say that I have accepted Jesus, chose Yahweh to be my God, and Holy Spirit to fill me? As if I was shopping for a god and thought they were a great bargain.
No—the realization that He chose me. He came to me in my brokenness, revealing His completeness and perfection. At the time, I could not have articulated these words, but in retrospect I can see Him coming to me, instead of me going to Him.
Recently, I was cooking some cheese toast to accompany my wife’s chili. I used up the last piece in an old bag and some from a new bag, leaving three end-pieces. I was about to throw the end-pieces in the garbage and suddenly I became convicted.
My friend, Mitchell Gibbs, had written a post about his daddy a few weeks ago. As a boy, Mitchell was about to throw a crust of bread into the fire and his daddy scolded him not to throw food away. If he didn’t want to eat it, there were a lot of hungry critters who would gladly eat his throw-aways.
So, instead of throwing my end-pieces in the garbage, I threw them where my yard meets the woods. A stray dog, possum, or bird would have a small feast on my throw-aways.
Bread has been called the staff of life. If you have bread, chances are you have something to put with it. I love bread and I love something to put on it. A PB&J has come close to saving my life.
When the Children of Israel came out of Egypt, God gave them manna from Heaven. They ate it for forty years, eating manna sandwiches and manna pudding. Jesus told his listeners, that the manna was not the bread from Heaven, but He was. He even compared His flesh to the bread He broke with his disciples at the Last Supper.
I need physical bread and I need Jesus. He has been my staff of life for some time now. In our world of slop thrown out, He is the constant source of strength and nourishment for my soul. If I did not have Him, I would surely die from not enough.
I pray you have bread aplenty. I pray you have Jesus, the true and lasting Bread from Heaven.
God feeds even the birds of the air. The next time you have an end-piece, help Him with the task.
Rice and Beans for Haitian Children
We try in the ministry to which the Lord has set our hands, to give the Bread of Jesus to hungry souls and the bread from grain to hungry bellies. We are thankful for the whole loaves and even the end-pieces we receive to share with others.
Pathway Journey 