Tag Archives: Leroy Mayne

The Last Piece of Bread…

“30 Now it came to pass, as He sat at the table with them, that He took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened and they knew Him; and He vanished from their sight.”-Luke 24:30

Sometimes we find ourselves rushing through this world, missing the blessings that exist before our very eyes. Then sometimes, we are lucky enough to catch that glimpse of something that appears to us which we seemingly cannot believe.

This past Thursday evening, I had just finished a day of testing my students in the last unit before Spring Break. The next day at school would be filled with fun activities that required very little in preparation. Outside the window, the sunshine and blue skies had beckoned all the day long. When my car finally pulled into our driveway, and I opened the door, the fresh air and sound of the woods enveloped me. There was something calling me. So as quickly as I could eat a bite, I found my walking stick, hat, and hiking shoes and set out the back door into the forest beyond.

My anticipation quickened my heartbeat matching those of my footsteps below.

When Mary reported back to the disciples that she had seen something at the tomb, Peter and John rushed out the door, their hearts beating nearly out of their chests. Their minds were ablaze with the impossibility; was He truly alive? Could Mary have been seeing things? Her fervent testimony left no doubt, so they ran onward. Their anticipation drove them faster. As they raced, memories of His teaching drifted back into their consciousness.

As my footsteps traveled along the cool, shadowed pathway, my mind wandered back to the previous week where a walk like this was a strain. I had been fighting a serious head cold, and it was nearly all I could do then to walk the new trail my friend Leroy wanted to show me. It was a wonderful walk along a continual waterfall that ran parallel to us. Opposite to the stream was a grove of Poplar trees. As we walked along, I couldn’t help trying to spy to see if there were any morels along the way. The undergrowth on the forest floor was nearly non-existent, which meant there was little hope of finding any of the precious little mushrooms during that day. From my experience hunting the elusive forest food, I knew that the lack of greenery usually meant it was too early I the season. Usually, they only grow in certain soils in particular weather just about this time each year. In other words, they are difficult to find.

Here I was a week later with the sun slowly setting. Time was running out. I hesitantly put the hopes of finding any morels this season to rest. It was more likely that it would be another year before we might be lucky enough to find them in the new area we call home; that’s just the way it would be.

John literally outran Peter, reaching the edge of the tomb. As he leaned against the round boulder that had the previous day covered the entrance to the crypt, he could smell the dampness of the inner chamber. His legs quivered with fear and excitement. “Was his Savior inside?” There was something that kept him from entering. Around the bend, he could hear the footsteps of Peter coming, yet he could not move. Was it fearing to find the brutally ravaged body of Christ that he dreaded to see once more? Was it the fear of a spirit he hastened to witness? It wasn’t until Peter rounded that curve and came into sight did his courage return.

Like so many of us that go into the world today to witness for Him, we fearfully stand outside the realm of those who need our words the most. We fall short of speaking to others the very thing they need most, the Truth. We cannot go it alone.

Onward I pushed, happy to be out in the sunshine and finally feeling more like myself. As I walked, I began lifting up prayers to God. Before long, I was being filled with his Holy Spirit. He was filling my mind with a multitude of things of which I couldn’t keep track. My cup was surely overflowing.

As the two disciples walked along the road to Emmaus, they were met with a stranger who joined them. They began speaking with him, and he opened their minds to all the scriptures. Even so doing, they did not realize it was Christ who was with them. They reached a point where they were to part with this new-found friend. Yet, so moved were they by his testimony that they kept him as the scriptures described, “But they constrained Him, saying, “Abide with us, for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent.” And He went in to stay with them.”

Just as their minds were overflowing with the words of Jesus, they had yet to fully realize the implications of what they were experiencing.

As my feet trod, one in front of the other, I was nearly singing His praises when I rounded the bend and began an uphill trek. Raindrops started to fall. There had been mention of a possible shower, but not today. I looked toward the distant mountain tops and saw scattered dark clouds. I hastened my footsteps yet again. As my focused changed from spirituality to the now, I realized the darkness growing about me.

Another turn, another bend, and then suddenly, there it was.

As those travelers on the road to Emmaus sat around the table with Jesus, talking and sharing, they still didn’t realize what was before them until their focus was brought to the “Here and Now,” when Jesus broke the bread. Now it came to pass, as He sat at the table with them, that He took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened and they knew Him; and He vanished from their sight.”-

Once the bread was broken, their bodies, predictably hungry from their days walk, pushed aside for the moment, their amazement of what that had heard and spoke about during their miraculous journey. It was then, they suddenly realized in whose presence they were, and had been for the majority of their day.

There, in the middle of the rocky trail, barely covered by any soil, stood a single morel.

I shouted out loud, “THANK YOU LORD JESUS!”

Those seated around the table that evening, when he broke the bread and blessed it, were about to witness the unbelievable. When He handed each of them their own piece of bread, their eyes were opened as had their minds been earlier in the day. It was then they realized who He was, and in that instant, He vanished before their eyes.

Did they shout, “THANK YOU LORD JESUS?”

Did they pause as they held the very bread of which Christ had handed them?

There before me was something that grew in such a rare occurrence, it could be said to be Heaven sent. No, it was not Christ, and no, it was not something miraculous, but it was a blessing so unexpected, it took my breath away.

I hesitated before bending down to pick up the precious morsel, then looked to Heavens. The rain had paused, and a shaft of sunlight shone down through the canopy above. “Thank you, Lord, for this blessing,” I whispered out loud.  I know in my heart that at that very moment those disciples too felt the urge to call out to God and thank Him for His Son.

We are all so very blessed.

One can only imagine that moment, that very minute when those disciples were handed that piece of food, and then to have Him seated before them.

Manna was sent from God to keep His children alive as they wandered those long years through the desert. That manna became their bread of life. Jesus died for our sins, so that we may have eternal life. He became our bread of life so that we may have eternal life, if only we accept Him into our hearts. We confess with our mouths our sins we believe with our hearts. When we consume the bread of life, we are taking that which is perishable which represents that which is not, Christ.

A morel, in a way, is like manna from Heaven. It is something that we might eat, sustaining our bodies while allowing us to give thanks to Him for providing something that is so uniquely special, it can only be a gift from God.

One morel, one last piece of bread from the hand of God, each one a blessing to those who receive.

This Easter, let us be thankful for a God, who gave His Only Son so that we might have salvation and eternal life. We need only recognize Him, and accept Him into our hearts when we confess our sins.

Blessed be Thy Name,

Thanks Be to God.

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A Tree, A River, and the Word…

treebyriver

““Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, And whose hope is the Lord. For he shall be like a tree planted by the waters, Which spreads out its roots by the river, And will not fear when heat comes; But its leaf will be green, And will not be anxious in the year of drought, Nor will cease from yielding fruit.”-Jeremiah 17:7-8

There are the long spells of time when all is well with my soul, and nothing seems to cause me to take pause. But then out of the blue, it’s as if I’ve been woken up from a long sleep, and suddenly there’s the sinking feeling that there is a looming appointment that’s been forgotten; panic and dread begin to well up inside like a cauldron of hopelessness. These anxious moments are my days and nights lately. Like a lone survivor of a shipwreck looking for the matches to light the signal fire, I scramble to find comfort in the Word. The Bible is closer now than ever before and the scriptures more significant. When those days of fighting between despair and trust come to a close, the trails near our new home have become my bastion of solitude.

There is a peacefulness to the forest.

I can recall my youth, growing up amongst the cornfields of Indiana, looking out my window knowing there was another place that beckoned; a place where mountains and dark wooded vistas wrapped themselves around clear flowing brooks. Back then I didn’t understand or know why I felt the calling. All I could see then was a sea of green cornstalks, occasionally broken by a tree line. The flatness was so apparent it now takes my breath away just to think of it. Sullenly, on my last visit for my father’s funeral, my heart ached as I watched the gray, dormant land pass by the windows of the car. There was an endless feeling of loss that panged me then, but it came not just from the loved one dying, but more than that, it was from knowing that I had spent a childhood amongst this. Part of me had known death before it was ever realized. A vast somber landscape that forces one to search for hope, and escape, any way you can to be saved from something so overpoweringly sad that it makes you wonder how you ever survived to this day. In that place, the most insignificant speck of color became the focus; your pleasure was measured by simple things. To that extent, you are made aware of beauty when it is placed before you, and you soaked it in like one drinking from the well for the first time.

From the somber landscape of Indiana to the mountains here in North Carolina, my life has been a journey I could have never imagined. This is my world now; beauty like Eden, so precious and stirring you cannot help to be moved. Yet, like the bends in the river, my life has taken a turn that we never expected once again.

We could dwell on the why, the how, or the what of it all. But like Lott and his family, the angels told them not to look back lest they become pillars of salt. So we force ourselves to go onward, measuring our steps ever so painfully. Again, reaching for the Word can provide comfort when there is none, allowing for the eyes to look up and see the world around instead of looking down and pondering our fate.

Making scripture come alive was something I had found so pleasing in this past year. So with that in mind, I sought the tree mentioned in Jeremiah, the one that stands beside the stream. My strength comes from Him, like the living water through which the tree survives even in the hardest times. Back to the forest and trails that have become my comforter, I returned once more.

On the days when nobody at home wants to go with me, I then seek out my friend and hiking buddy next door, Leroy. Like a child again, I wander up to the door of his house seeking out my brother in Christ. I knock and jokingly greet his wife Annette with, “Can Leroy come out to play?”

“Sure, ‘c’mon in and I’ll get them,” she replies with that big wide Texas grin as she swings the door open. “Yes, he can come out to play,” she laughs.

With a sheepish grin, he emerges around the corner grabbing his walking staff and hat, “Where too,” he quips?

“Wherever the good Lord takes us,” I smile in reply. “Today we have to hurry, I want to catch the river before the light is gone,” I say pointing to my sketchbook in hand. “I’ve got a tree in mind that matches scripture that has been on my mind a lot lately.”

“Great, let’s get going then,” he responds, and with that, we were off to the nearest trailhead as we wave goodbye to Annette.

As our feet find the path below, we quickly jump into the day’s events and happenings. Before we know it, we’re standing on the banks as the golden light of the sunset begins to paint the river a copper glow, as Leroy described it. The trees are standing firm overhead as the shadows start to overwhelm the forest beyond. Over and over again, the scripture from Jeremiah had been resurfacing in my mind as my recent job loss has created a turmoil in my life like never before.

As we scanned the scene before us, we both saw it at the same time and realized, there it is; the one that spreads its roots out by the river, the one that will not fear when the heat comes, the one whose leaves will remain green and not be anxious when the dry weather comes.

Two artists standing in admiration of God’s beauty, and knowing His word was with us, makes me even now feel blessed in so many ways. The Lord puts us in places with people for reasons we cannot fathom or understand. We are asked only to do His will and obey. When we do, we will be rewarded with innumerable sanctifications.

In awe and silence, I quickly sketched and captured as much of the image as possible before the light of day was gone. Leroy and I had shared once more the feeling of the Holy Spirit coming alive as the Word became truth before our eyes. We shall not be anxious in times of drought, for we will find sustenance in Him, and we will continue to be fruitful in all that we do.

Another walk, another trail, and the journey continues.

These are the Words of the Lord. Thanks be to God.

I will lift up my eyes to the hills— From whence comes my help? My help comes from the Lord, Who made heaven and earth.”-Psalm 121:1-2

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