I realize I’m a mature adult woman,but I still love a good, juicy piece of bubblegum. Actually, now that I’m a grown-up and can make my own decisions , I may or may not have been known to put three ( or five ) pieces of the chew into my mouth at once. I start working it hard with my jaws until I get it just right for the perfect bubble. I can feel the saliva dripping out the sides of my mouth and the sour apple puckering my cheeks all at the same time. Yumm-o. Yum . . . until. You know the until part —till the juice is gone and the soft resin starts turning hard and clunky in your mouth. Then I find myself rifling through my purse for a scrap of paper to spit out the wad. All that is perfectly acceptable and pretty darn smart when we’re talking bubblegum. But what about this story. . . Jesus has just fed enough people to fill an arena with a meager five loaves and two fish. Free food has a way of perking up people’s attention and drawing a crowd. So the next day, the masses track Jesus down on the other side of sea and say something like, “ Hey, that thing you did yesterday with the little kid’s lunch, can you do that again? We’re getting a little hungry here.” Jesus tries to explain that they’re missing the point. They’re looking for sustenance to sink their teeth into, but He is the true bread. He goes so far as to explain the idea of communion to them, but not like communion in church today. He drops a bomb on their expectations when He mentions eating His flesh. Drinking His blood. Of course, He doesn’t mean this in a physical reality, but a spiritual sense. That’s not what they heard. The gross idea repulses them. In fact, the Bible says, “ Many of His disciples turned away from following Him.” It wasn’t fun anymore. No more free food. Weird ideas they weren’t willing to process out with Him. The bubblegum had lost its juiciness. They were offended and confused. Exit stage left. Or Right. Whichever one was closest. Skedaddle. Bolt. Run like your hair is on fire. Jesus turns to the twelve disciples He has chosen to mentor. Maybe He whispers this. Maybe He looks into each one’s eyes before He asks them, “Will you also turn away?” Perhaps they considered it. The scene Jesus described was indeed a crude idea. Regardless of how Jesus meant it, it had all kinds of room to be misconstrued and misunderstood. Even if they grasped that there must be a deeper meaning, did they want to be associated with such a radical thinker? No doubt those questions ransacked their minds like a Tasmanian devil. Apparently, they’d discussed as much. Peter speaks up for the group as though they have taken a pow-wow regarding the issue and come to a definite conclusion. He states, “Jesus, where else would we go? You have the words of eternal life.” (John 6:68) I’ve thought a lot about that story recently. Right now, life as a believer is not uncomfortable for me. In fact, it’s down-right glorious. Most all my friends and acquaintances respect my commitment to follow Christ even if they haven’t chosen it for themselves. But what if a day comes that I’m alone in that? Or worse. I’m punished for it. Will I become a bubblegum Christian? Or let’s go a step deeper. Am I a bubblegum Christian now ? Do I get offended at God when I toil without much reward, and I don’t get the feel-goods I expected? What about when my prayers don’t turn out the way I’d hoped, or I don’t understand what God is doing in my life? Do I just forget all the holy stuff? Spit the gum out. Choose self-satisfying over obedience. I mean, come on. I’m not evil or anything. Just minding my own business. Ah! And that’s the problem. I’ve forgotten that my body is not my own. I’ve been bought with a price. (I Corinthians 6:19-20) As one preacher put it, I’ve also ignored a key point in the situation, one the disciples apparently understood. It’s this: You cannot turn away from something without turning towards something else. And what—pray tell—would I be turning to if I decided to stop following Jesus? I’ll tell you what. Nothing but a fleeting pleasure. I’m reminded to ask, “ What will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his own soul? ” (Mark 8:36) Hmmm. . . So which will it be? Seek the easiest way? Take all I can consume now? Or will I choose to Buck Up when the road turns rocky? Stay true even when it’s not fun anymore? Follow Jesus’ path regardless of the perceived outcome? I remember a line in CS Lewis’ book The Magician’s Nephew. In this allegory, Cabby had just crossed over to another world. “Gwad!” said the Cabby. “Ain’t it lovely?” In a few moments after absorbing the magnificent scene, he adds, “Glory be!” said the Cabby. “I’d ha’ been a better man all my life if I’d known there were things like this.” ( The Magician’s Nephew p.116-117) But there are things like this . . . Be encouraged, friend. When the bubblegum gets stale, we mustn’t forget this world is not our home. Heaven is real, and one day God will reveal all His glory. For those of us who’ve trusted Him, when we’ve finished our earthly life and find ourselves enveloped in all He has prepared, we’ll be so relieved we chose to buck up when life got uncomfortable. At the end of your life, instead of the Cabby’s statement, may this be your testimony: “Glory be!” said you. “I’m so glad I lived my life different. I knew there were things like this!” Hope & Glory to you, xoxo