“Jesus took the bread and blessed it. Then He broke it in pieces and gave it.”

He puts you into His hands. Not just one hand, but both hands. With all of His ability to hold you, He holds you. “Jesus took the bread.”

Then He raises you up, close to His face. He places His eyes upon you. In concentration, attention, and in perfect prayer—with all of His power—He blesses you. “Jesus took the bread and He blessed it.” His words move you into a state of pure blessedness.

He opens His eyes, looks at you, and looks at the others around you. In the same motion as the blessing, without placing you onto the table—you are torn apart and broken into pieces, many pieces. “Jesus took the bread and blessed it. Then He broke it in pieces.”

The breaking hurts. It rips away your wholeness, your identity, your power “to be.” You are transformed in an instant—changed in the twinkling of an eye—into fragments.

Still in His hands, Jesus moves you away from Himself, outward, toward the other. He places pieces of you into other hands. God doesn’t keep you for Himself; He let’s go. He gives you away. All of your fragments are placed into many different hands. There is none of you left. What will these hands do? There is such risk, such unknown. Then some of you, the crumbs, fall to the ground. “Jesus took the bread and blessed it. Then he broke it in pieces and gave it.”

He took you and blessed you—why?—only to be broken and given away? What?! We have to stop, stop here. What is missing in such an idea? What is there to see in this?

There is something important to see. There is a second, greater blessing.

The first blessing was obvious and in the form of receiving (He took the bread and He blessed it), but the second blessing was less obvious and in the form of giving (He broke the bread and He gave it). “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”

The second act of giving was more blessed than the first act of receiving. It is more blessed to be given in brokenness than to be chosen and blessed.

When you give the broken pieces of your life away, your life multiplies. This is the miracle of Jesus taking 5 loaves of bread, breaking them, and then feeding the 5,000. There was such a great multiplication of broken pieces that there were baskets left over.

Broken giving is the path to overflowing. Abundant life is the multiplying of broken pieces.

Because there are many pieces, there are many blessings. As the given pieces multiply, the blessedness multiplies. You cannot be multiplied as one single whole. Only that which broken is infinite. The second, greater blessing only comes upon the fragments.

The breaking and the miracle of multiplying begin in the same motion—occur at the same time. The miracle is in the very breaking itself, not after. But it is not visible, not understood, until the bread is given away. In the brokenness of our lives, our existence is replenished, is multiplied. Brokenness realizes infinity. The eternity present in brokenness is wholeness. Each act of giving puts into existence what is lost until the vessel overflows.

You receive life in giving your life away—all of your life. Every broken piece. He who loses his life shall find it. You can manifest your full life, more life than you can ever receive, if you give your life away. Today is the day that the fragments of your life can be multiplied into eternity—infinite blessedness.

**Based on my book: Opening Happiness