In the Kitchen with Abba

 I’m sitting in the Lord’s kitchen. The walls are yellow. It’s warm. The chairs are white, wooden, and worn. Everything is aged by loving use. I don’t have to feel nervous even though I haven’t come by in a while. I’m simply welcome. All is as it should be.

 He sits and looks at me. His eyes are deep, full, focused. He smiles and holds my hand. I feel grateful. I start to pour out my heart, my confessions and doubts. He listens. All is forgiven. I know it in my head, but my spirit still weighs heavy. 

He stands and takes a loaf of bread out of the oven. It’s perfect, fluffy, golden. He cuts a thick slice and puts it on a plate for me. 

“Take and eat, this is my body broken for you.”

 I take a bite. It’s soft and soothing. 

“Be strengthened; be whole.”

 I swallow and close my eyes. 

“Child, I said my body broken FOR you, not because of you. The temporary suffering, however deep and terrible, was worth it to know YOU forever.” 

I smile. I’m full of light. 

I am loved.