January 22, 2026
Jesus said, “I am the Bread of Life. The person who aligns with me hungers no more and thirsts no more, ever. ~ John 6:35 The Message Translation
Rod and I are in Hawaii to catch up with friends and warm up. We chose a good time to be here on both counts.
Last weekend I took a single prop plane, the kind you need to submit to weighing yourself and you’d luggage to balance the load. At the terminal the size of a small trailer home, all I needed to do was weigh in and show my ID. The waiting area was outdoors. An hour later I landed on Molokai and was greeted by my friend and colleague Janice Ogoshi and husband Rick.
We spent Saturday morning at a farmers market and driving to the four churches she serves every Sunday as Kahu (pastor). She is a modern day circuit rider.
That evening we attended a fundraiser dinner outdoors overlooking the ocean in the shade of a Banyon tree immersed in local conversation and food.
Rick and I discovered a shared passion for making bread, so as a treat we stopped in town to visit a Portuguese bakery. The door was locked, the lights were turned off, with the exception of a small “open” sign glowing red. We walked around the corner past a crumbling wooden structure then turned left down an alley. The pavement was uneven and cracked, but a few soft lights and the aroma of freshly baked bread led us to a window. For years, this bakery has been selling left over and still warm bread at a deep discount. Each loaf was sliced in half and your choice of fruit jams, cinnamon sugar and margarine were generously spread between the halves. In true Hawaiian style my hosts purchased the loaf of my choice, which we sampled back at their home.
Bread was important to Jesus. The evil one tempted him during his 40 days of fasting in the wilderness to turn stones into loaves of bread. When his disciple encouraged him to send the crowds home, he used a few loaves and some fish to feed multitudes on multiple occasions. Jesus took, broke, blessed and gave bread to his disciples. He was recognized when he blessed and broke bread with the two walking home after his crucifixion in Jerusalem, when he shared a meal with them.
He was a presence at my friends’ table, and blessed Rod and me at four breakfasts as we savored the bread.
Bread, at a price anyone could afford, shared in the least expected of places, at the end of dark alleys, is a witness of God’s faithfulness and provision, sun and water and wheat, the work of human hands, given to us, a mysterious reminder that he is still with us.
With love, Anne
Wayfinding 