Like a newborn baby, part two

Last year, I spent some time with my infant niece and wrote a post about 1 Peter 2:1-3: Therefore, rid yourselves of all malice and all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and slander of every kind. Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good.

I was convicted by the way my newborn niece craved her mother’s milk, how she was hungry all the time, and how she knew her mother would provide for her.

This summer, I have gotten to watch her crave not only milk but solid foods as well, and let me tell you, her hunger has not ceased one bit. She barely chews the noodle in her mouth before she’s pointing to the table nd asking for more. Sometimes, she cries when all the food is gone or when mommy is eating something she can’t have. I love to watch her eat because she is always ready for more. Everything mommy gives her, she eats, and she eats eagerly.

Her sister, on the other hand, at four-years-old is extremely picky. Sometimes, it’s a fight just to get her to eat three bites of her lunch. Last week, I watched my sister-in-law try desperately to get her to eat the applesauce she had asked for, but she fought every second of the way. She was told that she wasn’t going to get any other food until dinner time, but still she wouldn’t eat. She cried like she was being tortured, but all her mother was trying to do was to give her some nourishment so that she wouldn’t starve. After about an hour of fighting, the lunch was taken away, but her mother still gave her a snack because she couldn’t bear to leave her hungry.

What happens? What happens between the time a child will eat everything and anything mommy puts in front of her to the time when she stubbornly refuses everything and barely eats at all?

I wrote both examples in my journal, the baby and the four-year-old, and I asked God, “Which one am I?”

I don’t want to be the child who fights her Daddy, the child who refuses to address the hunger inside of her, the child who pokes at and plays with her food, but doesn’t eat it.

I want to be the daughter who eagerly gobbles up everything that comes from the Father’s hand, the child who constantly seeks out nourishment from her Father, the child who knows that anything the Father gives her is for her good, and so she accepts it and embraces it. I want to crave my Lord constantly, even as I grow older, and I want to trust in Him to completely satisfy.

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Communion for Breakfast

It’s a fascinating idea.

I had the blessing of experiencing this a couple of weeks ago:

I was working at a Christian summer camp, and the directors had the brilliant idea of starting each day with morning devotions. It totally helped me to start my day on the right track with a good focus and attitude.

We did things like read through passages in Ephesians, worship together, and pray for the day and the morning.

Tuesday’s devotion, however, was by far my favorite. It was a time of communion.

When I arrived at the church that morning, I was starving. I had not had time to eat breakfast, and I was planning on scarfing down my energy bar during devotions. Then, to my delight, I noticed a loaf of bread in the center of the meeting circle. Someone brought bread for breakfast? Works for me.

Then, I noticed the red plastic cups and the bottle of grape juice.

Oh, I thought, feeling a strange sense of embarasment, we’re having communion.

We sang a few beautiful worship songs, and then it was time to partake in the rememberance. I glanced up every so often as my coworkers got up one by one to take of the bread. It had been cut in large slices, but they were tearing off little bits.

“It’s okay to grab more,” our boss encouraged us. “Take a big piece of God!”

And I did just that – I was hungry!

Man, did that metaphor sink in for me that day.

The first thing I ate that morning was the bread that symbolized my savior’s body, broken for me, the sacrifice He made because He loved me.

The first thing I drank was the grape juice that stood for the blood that was shed for me, the blood that covers me, cleanses me, makes me whole.

And boy, did I eat and drink. I couldn’t get enough of it!

Physically, I was starving. Spritiually, I was hungry for more.

So I ate and drank that day, asking God to fill me up.

He did not disappoint. It has been two weeks, and I still can’t stop thinking about the power of that moment.

I want to wake each morning hungry for God. I want His Words and His Spirit to fill me up, because nothing else will satisfy. I want to live out each day constantly aware of the Sacrifice that was made, of the Blood that covers sin, of the Grace that is so readily made available. <3