I have heard that story almost every year of my half century of listening in church, but this was an ah-ha. When the disciples finally knew who sat at the table with them, His external body became irrelevant. They had made the transition from His external body to His internal one. And it is no accident that what preceded that awareness was the nourishment of shared bread.

When I obsess on the wrappings of my life- who ignored me, who liked my brilliant ideas, how my living room looks- it is dicey to simultaneously focus on the internal tasks. This becomes obvious to me when I see someone I care for that I have not crossed paths with in a while. It happened at Easter, in fact. Someone walked through the door that vaguely reminded me of a dear friend, but her hair was completely gray. 

"That can't be her," I thought. Then she walked closer. "Oh yes it can," I realized. But my picture of her was less based on her melanin than what I cherish about her. Her body kind of disappeared. 

While I chewed on the message, I began to think about the minister himself. He would be the first one to say that his life is currently hard. Make that very. Yet here he was, feeding me spiritually. 

Was this a coincidence? Or does the process of struggling, failing, and resolving anew coexist with inspiration? I know I tend to be less riveted listening to the perfect attributes of a seamless life that skates by like a commercial for shampoo. 

So today my wish for you is that the externals might fade away as you learn to train your eyes on what is happening inside. Not only that, I hope your life is hard.