I hold the seeing pen, the one with eyes, eyes that, in due time, might just decode the whole of eucharisteo. I am hard after it. Because the picking up of a pen isn’t painful and ink can be cheap medicine. And I just might live.
Ridiculously happy over slips of cheese.
life change comes when we receive life with thanks and ask for nothing to change.
Like the God-Man counting His too-few loaves and not-enough fishes. The one I remember from felt boards and figures pressed out smooth, where “Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted” (John 6:11 NIV, emphasis added). Gave thanks. He’d done it there too? Again? I’d missed it and all of my life? I’d never considered those two words, the bridge words there in the middle, the crossing over that took the not enough and made it enough. Gave thanks. Eucharisteo. Jesus embraces His not enough … He gives thanks … And there is...