A few days after Jesus had been crucified, two of His followers went for a long walk to the village of Emmaus. (Luke 24:13-35) Their hearts, empty of hope, were filled with grief. In the span of just one week, their emotions had swung from exuberant confidence as they’d watched their Messiah and soon-to-be-crowned-king ride into Jerusalem, to bewilderment as their hopes were crushed and crucified along with their rabbi.

Jesus came alongside these men who were deeply engrossed in heavyhearted conversation to inquire as to what they were talking about. Cleopas’ answer revealed his troubled heart. He explained that he and the other followers of Christ had come to believe that He was the Messiah they’d hoped their lifetimes for. As they walked, Jesus—actually anyone—could see that at the moment there was no reserve in these men’s spirits for any longer hanging their hope or trust on anyone or anything. I imagine Cleopas was thinking that if Jesus wasn’t the Messiah, would there ever be one?

Satan is the same hope-crusher now as he was then. When dreams are snuffed out or prayers go unanswered, he lies, telling us that the word of God is full of holes. He uses our disappointment to draw us into places of hopelessness, rebellion, anger, or feeling God has abandoned us to fend for ourselves.

Luke wrote that as the men walked with Jesus, He had interpreted all the scriptures about Himself to them. They later said, “Weren’t our hearts ablaze within us while He was talking with us on the road and explaining the scriptures to us?” They described how “He was made known to them in the breaking of the bread.”  Since it was in the breaking of the bread that truth was revealed, I wonder if maybe in our hopeless moments we should take communion. After all, doesn’t communion take us back to a place of gratefulness for Jesus’ sacrifice for us? Aren’t we amazed each time we eat “His body” and drink “His blood”, as we ponder afresh that our God has established covenant with us? Just like Noah’s rainbow, communion reminds me that God is a covenant keeper.

Lord, when I am confused, worn out, anxious, disappointed, hopeless, even upset with You—let me run TO You and “break bread” with You. As I take communion, let me lean in to hear Your heart, Your truth, and allow You to make Yourself known to me once again. Once, when You said to your disciples, ”You don’t want to go away too, do you?” Peter said, “Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Oh Lord, the truth of those words is exploding in my heart! There is no one else to turn to. Who else can give me life? Joy? Peace? It’s You, only You, whose words can nourish my soul with manna from heaven—Your truth that will outlast eternity! Jesus, You are my Rock, my firm foundation! How I do love you!