Peanut Butter and Bread

Years ago as a young teacher I had a room full of rambunctious middle school aged boys and girls. They were full of life and questions and energy, not to mention hormones. The classroom could be loud and smelly and curious. And I loved it.

One young lady really caught my attention from the get go. Many would not have called her a young lady. She could easily get into trouble it seemed. This girl was quick tempered, out spoken, and strong willed. She was a loner for the most part, but no one could ever doubt her presence.

And she was always hungry.

I first thought of her as every other growing child…they all always seem hungry. But the more I was around her the more evident it was that this situation was different. After a little questioning and investigation, the reality was made clear.

This girl was left to herself most evenings and most mornings. Her mother stayed out late at night, doing things of her own accord. The late nights for the mom meant that this student was left to fend for herself in the mornings before school.  The adults in this young girl’s life found time to party and have fun and take care of themselves. But the important responsibilities left to the caretaking adults were forgotten. The table in their kitchen and shelves in their pantry stayed bare.

As much trouble as this little lady could be, she grew on me. We got to know each other better and better.  I had her for two classes each day. And every day she knew she could find a peanut butter sandwich at my desk.

Peanut butter and bread.

Simple and inexpensive.  

But pretty important to my young friend and student.

I still occasionally see this little girl who now is a grown woman; a mother herself. She and I always laugh together and exchange a hug when we meet. Throughout the years she has returned the favor and helped me with a few things. It brings a smile to my face…but a question lingers in my heart.

Does she know why I gave her a peanut butter sandwich day after day during that given school year?

She never asked. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have told her.

Back then maybe I didn’t really understand exactly why I took the time to spread some goodness on a couple of pieces of bread every day and Ziploc it up for freshness.

Now after a long while and few more life experiences, I know I get it. But I am still learning to speak it.

It starts with an easy two syllable word.

A name. A man. A savior.

Jesus.

We can go to a far off places and take food or shoes or medical care or a thousand other things that are needed. We can walk down our side walk and take a peace offering in the form of a pie. We can care for people struggling with a world of addictions. We can hold babies and build relationships with teenagers and care for the widows. We can visit homes, orphanages, and hospitals. We can seek justice and truth. We can do a lot. We can do it all.

But what good are actions mirrored as His if we don't speak His name?

He deserves every ounce of the credit. Through our actions AND through our words. It's all about balance. It takes both.

So by chance if that young girl now turned grown woman is reading this…

I hope you remember the peanut butter and bread. The reason I made all those sandwiches is because a man lived many many years ago and He liked to feed people too. He fed them by the seashores and around campfires and at tables.  He even took a little bit of food a couple of times and fed thousands of people. He was cool like that…He lived to do great things…even for something as simple as an empty belly. 

He did even greater things like healing people, raising the dead, and spreading joy. But the greatest thing He ever did…He died for me and then God His Father raised Him. He still lives today up in heaven and He will come back. Right now, He wants all of us to do the types of things He did while He walked around on earth.  So the least I could do is to make a few peanut butter sandwiches for a beautiful, energetic, and vivacious young lady that needed something to eat.

I love you still today, but this man loves you even more. His name is Jesus. And He died for you too.

If you ever want to, I’d love to tell you more about Him. Maybe we can even talk about Him over a peanut butter sandwich.