Crusty

            It looks sooo good! Browned just like it should be. Surely it’s soft and yeasty. All it needs is some butter.

            But then I tap on the top.

            Hard! It isn’t anything it looks like. It’s a fake, at least in part. From every angle this appealing bit of glutinous delight calls for my attention. Yet it’s not worth it.

            This roll is nothing but a sham. That’s what this dinner roll has become in the two weeks it’s graced my kitchen counter on a candleholder.

            Why would anyone put a roll on a candleholder?

            A bit odd, isn’t it? It wasn’t my idea. It was the pastor’s. Two weeks ago he suggested that everyone who got a roll during the morning service might want to set it out as reminder of how stale and crusty our relationship with the Bread of Life—Jesus—can become to us when we neglect him. Every day we need to enjoy the Bread of Life to have a living, growing relationship with the Savior.

            Somehow I can’t resist tapping the top of the roll once in a while. How can it look so perfect and be so crusty? And how can we think our relationship with the Master can remain fresh if we neglect him? If you want to, stick a roll on your counter to remind yourself. See how long it takes before you starting tapping the top.

           And speaking of crusty, how long can any of us go before we get crusty without Jesus? Less time than we realize!