Tag Archives: Jesus

Of Food and Grace


I love that Jesus is fearful.

He climbs the mountain and sits down.
The needy crowd follows him and sits at his feet waiting
and he heals them, speaks of their suffering,
tells his disciples his heart is sick.

He fears they will collapse for lack of food.

Could he assuage their hunger
as he heals their ills?  He doesn’t.
He uses real food.
I use real food.

This must be the oneness of divinity and humanity.

What about when you swirl the hot pan with oil,
when you peel, slice, and chop the sweet onion,
when you sauté everything you have prepared and marinated,
is it not real food?

This is sacramental.

We are hungry children, a needy crowd.
How fearful we are when everyone is waiting
for us to provide and heal.  And yet we feed
and heal and love through this sacrament of bread and fish

of food and grace.

all creation is groaning in labor pains…


(A prayer reposted from livingwithchrist.us)


Jesus, how wonderful
it would be if the
grief of this world
could be turned into joy!

And yet, Lord, that is what
you say will happen
when the kingdom comes
in its fullness.

But that time still
seems so far off.
Right now, the kingdom
is still being born,
by pain and anguish
and fear and turmoil.
All creation is groaning
in labor pains, says Paul,
and we all wait for
the kingdom to be born.

Jesus, we’ve never given women
the credit they deserve for the
courage and heroic endurance
it takes to give birth.
And until recent medical advances,
every woman in childbirth
had a strong chance of dying
in the process.

Help me to learn
from these women, Lord.
Give me some of their strength
as I struggle to give birth
to the kingdom in my own life.
Give me some of their selflessness,
so that I may give of myself for others.
Give me some of their generosity
so that I might put others before myself.
Give me some of their courage
in facing death,
so that I might die to myself
for the sake of the kingdom.

Childbirth is messy, painful,
and dangerous, Lord.
Help me to keep looking
forward to the day
when all our anguish
will be turned
to eternal joy.

Sweet Emmanuel


Chocolate milk in the morning,
knee-high hugs good-bye,
chocolate-spotted suit pants,
dark stains that won’t dry.

In what disguise will he turn up today?
Distressing, calm, or well?
It seems he sleeps and wakes within us,
sweet, Sweet Emmanuel.

We are each a Christ to one another,
each harnessing a dove.
We are Christ to each other,
loving and being loved.