When I was first diagnosed with Celiac disease, I took a few wary steps back into the world of food. I was a bit fearful after living with pain for so long. When, after every meal, you feel like you’ve swallowed something with the toxicity of Clorox, you really don’t want to put anything else in your mouth. Ever.
But eventually I learned how to eat in a whole new way and I thought I’d finally won the battle with my old idol. It was a couple of years later that the Lord graciously opened my eyes to the danger that still lurks in my fickle heart (even today). Allow me to share that story with you by revisiting one of my old blog posts about craving fresh bread:
Freshly baked bread! My mouth started watering with the first warm whiff. Desire came over me like a wave.
Stronger than craving—my desire seemed closer to lust.
I paused at the doorway, not sure I could actually enter the café, the aroma was so overpowering. The heavy smell was tempting, drawing me in. I wasn’t sure how I was going to resist, it seemed a lifetime since I’d tasted bread.
When my friend suggested we meet at a certain café specializing in gourmet breads, I hesitated only a moment before I agreed. I hate to remind people that having Celiac disease means that if I accidentally eat even a small amount of gluten, it can take me out of commission for weeks. I can usually find a safe salad anywhere, so I agreed to the café suggestion.
But I was not prepared for my reaction when I entered that door.
I wasn’t prepared for the power of this old familiar longing. I was gulping in the delicious smell like I could eat it, when graciously the Lord gave me a gentle rebuke with His question,
“Why is your craving so strong for the bread that perishes?”
Jesus’ interaction with the greedy crowds of John 6 flooded my mind, bringing a rush of conviction. What was I doing?
I was almost totally overcome with lust for mere food . . . the sheer irony of it!
How many times had God revealed this old idol of my heart? And unexpectedly, I once again found the old lusts still lurking there.
“I am the Bread of Life” was His gentle whisper to my heart, “Feed on Me.”
I lowered my head to look away from freshly baked loaves behind the glass case. Why was my craving for the “bread that perishes” strong enough to cause painful longing?
Do I crave Him that strongly?
Does He hold that much power over my senses?
I bowed my head to silently plead with Him.
“Forgive me, Father. Please Lord Jesus, every time I crave bread, let my craving be turned to You instead. Use this denial of physical bread to deepen my hunger for You, the Living, Eternal Bread of Life . . .You are my Bread!”
While I ate my salad, I silently fed on this:
[box]Jesus answered them . . . “Do not work for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you . . .
Truly, truly, I say to you, it is not Moses who has given you the bread out of heaven, but it is My Father who gives you the true bread out of heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down out of heaven, and gives life to the world.”
Then they said to Him, “Lord, always give us this bread.”
Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life; he who comes to Me will not hunger, and he who believes in Me will never thirst.
I am the living bread that came down out of heaven; if anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever; and the bread also which I will give for the life of the world is My flesh.” (Portions of John 6)[/box]