Susan LaffertyThe crowds follow the fragrance. Looking for bread. Multiplying in His hands.
Fresh bread from the Master draws them. Like hot loaves from the oven.
But then. He speaks. Hard words. Strange to their ears. Threatening their loyalties.
Wordless. I don’t know what to say. How to pray.
But longing stirs. Hunger to hear Your voice. See Your lamp shining in the dark.
I try to look ahead. Nearsighted vision blurs the future. Shapes without edges loom. Nothing is clear.
So I open the Scriptures. Hold Your Word close. And read in black and white, words on the page.
