This is the Sign: You Are Not Alone

This morning, I broke the bread—

the most basic and simple food—

and remembered.

Jesus once held it in his hands,

looked into the eyes of his friends,

and said:

“Take, eat. This bread is the sacrament of my body, broken and given for you.”

It is a visible sign of an invisible reality:

that his earthly body was broken before the foundation of the world.

God knew.

Before the stars were flung into the sky,

before the first breath of the first creature,

God consciously welcomed brokenness, pain, and love’s costly solidarity

as part of what was about to be created.

The Lamb was slain before.

The cross was experienced before.

God was in communion with all who suffer—

before anything was created.

And so, again this morning, I broke the bread,

and accepted the love-call:

to receive my whole life.

Not just the joy. Not just the clarity.

But the agony and the ecstasy

that will come to my door today.

That is all I can do.

I have no control over what arrives at my threshold.

But before the day is fully formed,

I eat and remember—

this bread is the promise

that I do not walk alone.

That I am foreknown.

That I am predestined for love.

That I have been chosen—

to be loved, and to love.

And whatever this day may hold,

one thing I can know with stillness and certainty:

God chose to suffer before the foundation of the world,

to be in solidarity with me.

And nothing—

not joy, not sorrow, not success, not failure—

can separate me from that love.

The bread becomes a quiet sign

that gives me courage to face what is mine to face—

and strength to be carried through the day.

And then, I take the wine.

I lift the cup of the Eternal Covenant—

a covenant whispered within the Trinity

before time began.

As the blood of the slain Lamb flowed across eternity,

a promise was born:

All will be well.

Something wonderful is happening even now.

And through everything—

through chaos, stillness, pain, joy, confusion, and clarity—

God will fulfill God’s purposes.

And everything

will somehow

work together

for our highest good.

So I break the bread.

I lift the cup.

And I begin again.