Skip to main content

The smell of freshly baked bread


Image from 123RF

One of my favorite smells in the world is freshly baked bread. When I was little, my family and I lived with a neighbor as my dad was in the process of building our new home. Estella, our neighbor and close family friend, would bake all the time. So, when I got off the bus from school each day, it was a regular occurrence for me to have freshly baked snacks to eat. Sometimes she would make cookies, sometimes apple turn overs, but more often than not, Estella would bake bread.

The smell of the bread would travel through her house and waft out the windows and doors to beacon me inside when I returned home from school. The fragrance of fresh-baked bread led me to a safe, warm, kitchen after a long day at school. My traveling feet found a place to rest in Estella's kitchen. Estella's bread had a way of resetting my heart and mind on good things, even after a hard day.

In the account of Jesus on the road to Emmaus, two of his followers are traveling along the road. They are tired from the journey and sad because they didn't know that Jesus had risen from the grave. The disciples are joined by Jesus, but they don't recognize him.

The road to Emmaus was almost seven miles long. Why do you think his disciples did not recognize him?

Some people think it took so long for them to recognize Jesus, because they had not yet heard of his resurrection. The disciples of Jesus were in a place of sadness and loss. In sad times, it can be hard to see the good things that surround us. Perhaps, after walking with Jesus for a distance, sharing stories of his life and memories together and then sitting down for a meal; allowed the disciples to begin to see some good. In that moment of Jesus breaking bread all their senses communicated the good news that Jesus was with them. Their eyes saw him, their ears heard his voice, and their noses smelled the sweet fragrance of fresh bread. It is only when Jesus was at the table with them, blesses and breaks the bread, that they finally see him for who he is.

Just like the disciples at the beginning of the Emmaus road, we can forget what it's like to be with Jesus. All the sad things can keep us from seeing, hearing and smelling the goodness of God that is always with us. Catching a whiff of fresh baked bread has a way of bringing the good, to comforting and the sweet back into reach of our senses that need his presence and peace.

Jesus walks with us on every road we travel, but our eyes and ears need to be open to be aware of it.

Prayer:
Dear God,
Open our eyes to see You are with us, open our ears to hear You leading us on the path we walk. Help us to be more aware that You are with us in all places and times. May Your presence, peace and love be the bread of our life.
Amen.

Comments

Oh wow, i love the breed cooked at home. Do you have a good recipe for it? I want to eat a good bread and this is the only one solution.
Mel said…
Guilty.

I forget.
Ty.
formatii nunta said…
When i see this picture I am so craving for bread, but I'm not allowed to eat because I'm on a diet...
Tara Lamont said…
Dear All,
Thank you for reading and posting comments. Love to read them all - almost as much as I love home-made bread.
T

Popular posts from this blog

SWB: Claustrophobia and clearings

Mary Lue shared her host post on business and rest for this weeks Sleeping with Bread Examen. Her words resonated with me in the fact that due to a significant staff change at my office, there is more work to be done and my plate is feeling fuller lately. There have been more meetings, and lots of talking and planning. For the most part, I've felt much more connected to people since I've become more involved in this way, but oddly when I'm done for the day or night - I find myself in need of some quiet. Maybe I'm still sorting and planning in the back of my mind, but silence (even my own) is something I find myself being more and more drawn too. It's like the extra noise, both internal and external, makes me feel claustrophobic . A few days after Christmas, I went into a game store with my son and was overwhelmed by all the noise and activity there. The store was tiny but filled with kids and their parents vying for their video game of choice. My head felt hot, my

Sunny and rainy day friends

There are two kinds of friends in the world: Sunny day friends and rainy day friends. This is a statement that my Mom used to remind me of when I was in the midst of drama or conflict with one school friend of another. There are lots of people that we define as friends, but they are really acquaintances. Two men were out hunting in the northern U.S. Suddenly one yelled and the other looked up to see a grizzly charging them. The first started to frantically put on his tennis shoes and his friend anxiously asked, "What are you doing? Don't you know you can't outrun a grizzly bear?" "I don't have to outrun a grizzly. I just have to outrun you!" This story is funny, but it does help define the distinct difference between a rainy day friend and a sunny day friend. The sunny-day-friend is more concerned with watching out for their own health and wellness, than their friends' wellbeing. On the other hand, a rainy day friend is willing to take risks, work fo

What Summer Camp Means to Me...

  I was around six-years-old when I first went to sleep-away summer camp.  At the time I lived in PA and the camp (through my church) was in Ohio. All school year, I attended Sunday School faithfully partially because regular attendance allowed my family scholarships to help with the cost of Summer Camp. Over the school year, I attended most Sunday's and by the end of the year, my little coupon book was full of stamps - providing me with a scholarship to attend a camp session. I provide this background on how I first got to go to camp, because it is an essential part of explaining what Summer Camp meant (and means) to me.   Going away to Summer Camp gave me a whole new experience of community. The whole process of going to and attending was the first times I experienced, "it takes a village", personally. From the Sunday School Teachers who drove a sedan full of kids to Ohio, to the counselors and staff who supported new campers: through the first 48 hours of homesickness