Become More

It was at the table, in the simple act of breaking bread, that the disciples' eyes were finally opened. After hours of conversation, it was the shared meal, the gesture of blessing, that illuminated Christ's presence. This powerful image reminds us that hospitality and communion are not just social rituals, but sacred spaces where God is often profoundly revealed. Consider the tables you gather around today, whether literally or metaphorically. A family dinner, a coffee break with a friend, or even a moment of quiet reflection over your own meal. How can you infuse these moments with intentionality, recognizing them as potential sites of divine encounter? When we welcome others, when we share sustenance and conversation, we create an environment where the veil can be lifted. May you approach every shared meal, every moment of hospitality, with an awareness that Christ might be made known to you in the breaking of bread, opening your eyes to new grace and understanding.

The disciples on the Emmaus road walked for hours with Jesus, yet they did not recognize him. He was a stranger to them, though their hearts burned within them as he spoke. This narrative offers a powerful lesson: God often appears in forms we least expect, through people we might otherwise dismiss, or in circumstances that seem ordinary. Our preconceptions can sometimes blind us to the divine presence walking alongside us. This week, cultivate a spirit of curiosity and openness toward those you encounter. The person in line at the store, a new colleague, or even someone whose views differ from your own. Could Christ be veiled in their presence, inviting you into a deeper conversation, a moment of shared humanity, or a new perspective? Let go of the need for immediate recognition. Instead, trust that as you engage with an open heart, the Spirit may unveil truths, just as the scriptures were opened to the disciples. May you see the divine in the faces of strangers today.

In a world that constantly demands our attention and values relentless productivity, we often view idle time as wasted time. Yet, scripture reminds us that some of the most profound encounters with the divine occur in precisely these unhurried spaces. Think of the disciples on the road to Emmaus, walking their familiar commute, expecting only the usual journey home. It was in this seemingly mundane interlude that the Risen Christ joined them, opening their hearts and minds to new understanding. Today, consider the "boring" moments in your own life. The quiet commute, a waiting period, or even moments of genuine boredom. Instead of reaching for a distraction, what if we intentionally opened ourselves to these pauses? What if we viewed them as sacred invitations? God often speaks not in the whirlwind, but in the quiet, gentle whisper. Embrace these spaces, for they might just be the very places where God is waiting to meet you, to burn within your heart, and to reveal a truth you desperately need to hear. May your unhurried moments be filled with unexpected grace.

## God in the Quiet Spaces You might recall those long road trips before smartphones, when boredom was a constant companion. Imagine yourself in the rear-facing seat of an old station wagon, traveling across states. With nothing but a notebook, a pen, and the endless road behind you, you start counting mile markers, timing the distance between them, and trying to calculate speed. It was a monotonous task, yet in that boredom, a curious child discovered rudimentary algebra. This wasn't a planned educational moment; it was born out of an empty space in time, a necessity to "make your own fun." And for some reason, that experience, more than any video game or TV show, still stands out as a vivid memory. This simple childhood memory holds a profound truth for our spiritual journeys. Often, we view idle time—moments of boredom, long commutes, or forced pauses—as something to avoid or quickly fill. Yet, it is precisely in these seemingly unproductive periods that God often draws near. Think of the disciples on the road to Emmaus. They were simply commuting home, no doubt expecting a mundane walk, rehashing the week's events. But in that unhurried, open space, a stranger joined them, engaging in a multi-hour conversation, opening the scriptures, and eventually revealing Himself in the breaking of bread. Their busyness paused, their defenses lowered, and they became "uniquely available" to an encounter they never anticipated. Just as the libraries of today offer a slower pace and an invitation to serendipity, and just as Ignatius of Loyola's forced bed rest led him from romance novels to a profound spiritual calling, God often uses our "backseat moments" to get our attention. When we are not in the driver's seat, making all the choices and rushing to the next task, we create space for the Spirit to move. **Next Step:**

How might you intentionally carve out moments of "boredom" or open availability this week? Can you resist the urge to immediately reach for your phone during a commute, a waiting period, or a quiet evening? Instead of always charging through life, try "wandering through it" occasionally—like browsing library shelves or strolling through the woods—open to what unexpected connections or insights God might offer. **Prayer:**

Heavenly Father, help us to embrace the quiet, unscripted moments of our lives. Slow our hearts and open our eyes to Your presence in the ordinary, the idle, and the unexpected. May we be available to Your grace, always practicing resurrection by tuning in to You. Amen.

Even amidst joy, the disciples still wrestled with disbelief and wonder when Jesus appeared. Their minds continued to chew on the impossible, despite seeing and touching his resurrected body. Jesus met their intellectual struggle not with a lecture, but by asking for something to eat, demonstrating a simple, undeniable reality. He patiently invited them past their persistent questioning into a deeper, felt understanding of his living presence. We too often find our hearts and minds questioning, even when God’s blessings are evident. This lingering doubt can prevent us from fully embracing the transformative joy available to us. Today, consider how Jesus might be inviting you to move beyond intellectual hurdles and into an experiential trust. What tangible truth is God offering you that requires not analysis, but simply your presence and acceptance? Let go of the need to fully comprehend, and instead, open your heart to truly receive and believe.

In a world constantly vying for our attention, the simple act of *being present* can feel revolutionary. We often find ourselves capturing moments through screens or analyzing experiences rather than simply dwelling in them. Yet, true joy often resides in the unadulterated "now," just as Jesus yearned for his disciples to fully embrace the joyous reality of his return, free from overthinking. Think of a recent moment of joy—a delicious meal, a meaningful conversation, a peaceful walk. Can you recall it without dissecting its purpose or performance? This is the essence of mindful presence: allowing ourselves to truly feel, taste, see, and hear the goodness of God's creation as it unfolds. It's about letting go of the need to "track" or "optimize" every experience, and instead, giving ourselves permission to simply *be* in that sacred moment. Today, seek out and fully inhabit a moment of joy, giving thanks for its unburdened simplicity.

Our faith is not meant to reside solely in our minds; it is a living, breathing commitment expressed through action and practice. Much like the disciples who, despite joy, still wrestled with disbelief, we too can overthink our spiritual journey. Yet, Christ invites us beyond intellectual assent, calling us to "see and touch" him in our daily lives. This is the heart of embodied faith. John Wesley understood this profoundly, emphasizing "Means of Grace"—tangible practices that draw us closer to God. Whether it's setting aside time for prayer, walking in nature, engaging in Christian conferencing, or sharing communion, these acts are not passive observations but active engagements. They are how we "get our hands dirty" in faith. Today, choose one practice—a moment of quiet reflection, a conscious act of kindness, or a mindful engagement with scripture—and commit to it wholeheartedly. Experience the growth that comes from truly *doing* your faith.

Consider the marvel of the caterpillar's journey. From a crawling creature, it enters a hidden chrysalis, emerging as a winged butterfly—seemingly a new being, yet retaining the essence and memory of its former self. This profound transformation mirrors the two natures of Jesus: fully human, fully divine, both before and after the tomb. He was always the Son of God, even in his human walk; and after resurrection, he remained fully human even in his divine glory. Just as the blueprint for the butterfly resides within the caterpillar, so too does God's divine image reside within each of us, waiting for expression. We are constantly in a process of spiritual metamorphosis, called to grow and change, yet always rooted in our core identity as beloved children of God. Today, reflect on the hidden potential within you. What new spiritual wings might God be preparing you to unfurl? Embrace the transformative journey, knowing that your truest self, designed by God, is patiently waiting to emerge.

The disciples, startled and terrified, encountered the risen Christ. He didn't offer a theological argument; instead, he invited them to touch his hands and feet, to see for themselves the tangible proof of his resurrection. "A ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have," he declared, then ate a piece of fish in their presence. This powerful encounter reminds us that our faith is not merely an abstract belief, but an invitation to a real, embodied relationship with God. How often do we seek intellectual answers when Christ is inviting us to a deeper, sensory experience of His presence? He meets us in our doubt, not with complex doctrines, but with palpable love and an invitation to engage all our senses. Today, consider how you might open yourself to truly *experience* God's presence, not just think about it. Look for the sacred in the ordinary, touch the world with intention, and taste the goodness of creation. Let your heart be touched by the living Christ, present and real, among us.

## The Gift of Presence: Experiencing Your Faith Imagine a journey, perhaps to a faraway land, filled with incredible sights and sounds. Like many of us today, you might instinctively reach for your phone or camera to capture every moment, worried about remembering it later. Yet, what if the true richness of the experience lies not in the capture, but in the pure presence? On a trip to India years ago, a friend named Alan chose to leave his camera behind. While others focused on framing the perfect shot, he simply *was* there, taking it all in. Later, in the quiet of the car, he would open his notebook and simply write down what he did, what he saw, and what he thought. His choice to be fully present, rather than constantly documenting, allowed him a deeper, more personal engagement with every moment. This pursuit of deep, unfiltered experience is profoundly spiritual. Consider the disciples after Jesus's resurrection. When Jesus appeared among them, their first reaction was terror and disbelief, thinking they saw a ghost. Jesus didn't launch into a theological lecture. Instead, he invited them: “Look at my hands and my feet. See that it is myself. Touch me, for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” And when they were still wondering, he asked, “Have you anything here to eat?” He took a piece of broiled fish and ate it in their presence. Jesus understood that faith isn't solely an intellectual exercise; it’s an invitation to engage all our senses, to experience the tangible reality of God’s presence. John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, championed this idea, encouraging a faith lived out and practiced daily. He understood that while learning about God is important, true spiritual growth often comes through actively participating in what he called the “Means of Grace”—practices like prayer, communal fellowship, and communion—that invite us to see, touch, and taste the good news. Sometimes, we wait to “feel” like engaging in faith practices, but it is often *in the doing* that the feeling follows, deepening our connection with God and with one another. **Next Step:**

Reflect on a joyful experience you’ve had recently, no matter how small. Rather than analyzing it or wondering if you “deserved” it, simply recall the moment. How did you feel? Where were you? Who were you with? Dwell in that simple joy and thank God for it. **Prayer:**

Loving God, open our hearts and senses to your presence in our everyday lives. Help us to embrace each moment with a spirit of gratitude and wonder, moving beyond doubt to experience the profound joy of your tangible love. Amen.