Joel and I have felt really busy lately. Partly, because we are really busy. However, when we look at our lives there just isn’t anything we want to cut out, especially not on Saturdays. Every Saturday I spend a couple hours tutoring Nicte in English – her new school has a much more demanding English program. Then, Joel and I meet with a group of current and future Vida Joven leaders in Zone 3. The goal of this group is to share life and really pour into these young leaders. We talk about life, faith, our goals, and our plans to achieve them. It’s a really meaningful time.
There’s one story that really conveys the essence of what happens on Saturdays. It happened months ago, but it’s really still sinking in. At the time, we were working through the “I am” statements in John. We’d talked about how Jesus said he was the bread of life – we talked about what that means for us. We left.
The next week, one participant came in and said, “I have a story.” Great. Tell it. “This week, I was working in the garbage dump. I hate working in the garbage dump. I usually don’t have to but we were short on work. I almost quit, but my family needs the money. Anyway, it was 2:30pm and I hadn’t eaten all day. I wanted to die. I picked up some cans, and underneath I saw a bag. I opened the bag and inside it was a perfectly wrapped package. Clean. I opened it up and inside was a loaf of bread. When I saw that bread I remember that Jesus is the bread of life and, no matter what, he’ll never let me go.”
So often we look for signs – something, anything, to remind us that God is there. I’m thankful that our friend shared this story and that he could see God even in a loaf of bread buried amidst the garbage.