Little Ol' Man

My car turns the familiar corner passing the church on my usual morning drive. A woman jogs by, the homeless fellas sit on the bench and talk,  some kids play, and that's when I see him. The little ol' man slowly pulls out, one-by-one, bag-by-bag the loaves of bread. Time stood still. All I could see was that little ol' man.

Why was he there?

Reloading the storage room for the churches homeless pantry?

Did he do this every week?

Something about his run of the mill everyday-ness struck me.  Just going about his business. Probably the thing he's done for years.  The thing he quietly offers to help week in and week out.

The everyday.

Playing his part.

Being Christ.

Offering his bit.

But something about the way he gently pulled out those bags of bread one by one filled the air with the most savory aroma wafting into my car.  Funny how one glimpse, one moment of watching another person's otherness can transcend the ordinary to extraordinary.

The secret places, hidden places going about our business and letting the great I AM  have his way with us, love in us, and take our lowly lives and make them glorious.

Taking our few loaves and multiplying them....

Jesus, help me to see that the little things matter often more than the things I deem bigger. Open my eyes to your walking parables all around me and Holy Spirit help my ears stay attuned to your messages in the everyday. An old fella. Some loaves of bread. A joyful spirit.  Even when no one, rather especially when no one sees, remind me you see, you savor the union we share when we offer bread in your name.