My friend Jeff Powell won't be at our house for New Year's Eve this year. He's taking some down time. He drives a Wonder Bread truck and begins his route every morning at 3.
There was a time when I thought of Jeff I pictured him on the golf course — that's where our paths usually crossed. But these days I picture him in that bread truck, driving hundreds of miles a week to "get the bread out." And every time we talk he has some interesting tidbit to share. (Did you know that the twist ties on Wonder Bread are color-coded? You can tell by the color what day the bread was delivered).
In short, when I think of Jeff, I think of him driving store to store to make his deliveries. When people go to bed at night, they pray for their daily bread. And bingo, there's Jeff, getting that bread to them. He's like the tooth fairy or Santa Claus that way. But with a difference.
Jeff is as real as rain.
And he's real in more ways than one.
After his deliveries and before he hits the sack, for instance, he'll take time to sit down at his computer and send out uplifting stories, thoughts, riddles and rhymes he's come across. They are usually just as fresh, filling and wholesome as those loaves he shares. There must be dozens of us on his mailing list. The e-mails arrive almost daily. It's Jeff's way of getting the "bread of life" out to his friends.
He feeds people's bellies, then he feeds their souls.
In the Bible, when Jesus is called The Bread of Life, or The Living Water or Light of the World, there is a reason, I think. He chose basic things to describe himself because he knew that people dealt with those things daily. So when they took a bite of bread or washed their hands or looked at the sun, maybe something he said would come back to them. Maybe they'd think of him.
It was his own personal way of getting the "bread of life" out into the daily lives of people.
In fact, I half suspect that's how it works with Jeff. I can't be sure, but I imagine him out there motoring on I-15 when it's 5 below zero in a truck filled with fresh, soft bread, and he maybe starts thinking "bread thoughts." I'd like to think he thinks about the crusts — how people are so vulnerable and easily crushed that we build a crust around ourselves. And maybe he thinks of ways to get past those crusts. Maybe he thinks how doing spiritual things makes him feel like moist, fresh bread inside instead of like dry and brittle crackers.
Put a slice of bread in a plastic bag of hard chocolate chip cookies and it will soften those cookies right up.
Put a man in a truck filled with bread and my guess is it will soften him up as well. And by the time Jeff gets back home, he's ready to make that "second delivery" of his — those uplifting thoughts he shares.
For, in the end, I know you will never meet a more generous, personable soul than Jeff Powell. And that tells me that somewhere along his route in life — maybe in that truck, maybe not — the "bread man" came in contact with the "bread of life."
And that has made the lives of the rest of us a little bit more fresh, soft and moist.
It has fed our souls.
E-mail: jerjohn@desnews.com