“‘There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are they for so many?’ Jesus said, ‘Have the people sit down…Jesus then took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, He distributed them.” – John 6:9-14

A large crowd had been following Jesus and were hungry. It wasn’t comparable to the largest crowd that I have had to feed for sure – this was 5,000 men (which didn’t even include the women and children present).

Scripture says that even though Jesus already knew what He would do to feed the crowd, He asked Philip in order to test him, “Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?” Phillip must have been good at math, because he quickly determined that even “two hundred denarii worth of bread would not be enough for each of them to get a little.”

Most of us would have likely acted similarly. Add up the people. Crunch the numbers. Determine that based on facts, we can’t feed all these people.

But there was a little boy there who wasn’t thinking of what he didn’t have but what he did have. This fact alone makes me want to cry. Because children never cease to amaze me and challenge me with their simple yet profound acts of mercy, faith, and generosity.

This boy didn’t have an expensive or impressive lunch. One commentator of this passage observed that “barley was regarded as simple fare, more often fit for animals than for men.”

He was a poor boy, but he was rich with generosity. He was unashamed of his barley loaves and gave them to Andrew to contribute to the needs of the people.

I wish that it was clear from reading the passage that Andrew at least praised the boy for his contribution, but all that is clear is that Andrew received it saying to Jesus, “what are they for so many?” He was skeptical of what good this small offering would accomplish in such a large crowd.

But when he passed this simple meal into the hands of Jesus a miracle happened.

Jesus took the loaves, thanked God for them, and began to distribute them.

And they multiplied.

Not just enough food to feed the crowd, but twelve baskets of fragments of bread were left over when all the people had eaten and were full.

Jesus used this poor boy’s offering to feed thousands that day. I can only imagine the story he told his mother later. Or maybe she was there, watching with tears in her eyes.

We watch the news – hearing of wars and rumors of wars and poverty and suffering and pain and we wonder what we can possibly do. What could we contribute that would make a real difference?

But Jesus knows we can’t solve all the world’s problems. He’s God – not us. But He does ask us “What is in your hand?” Not what you can’t do, but what can you do?

Perhaps it is word of encouragement to someone weary under life’s burdens. Filling them with the strength they need to stand and continue strong on their journey.

Perhaps it is supporting a child who, at only the cost of a dinner out, you could provide food for a whole month.

Perhaps it is shoveling an elderly neighbor’s walkway during a snowstorm.

Perhaps, and sometimes most powerful, it is praying for those in need, those suffering, those you can’t reach with your physical hands – but God can.

What you hold in your hand may be a humble and simple offering. You may be tempted to think, ” What does one small act really accomplish?”

But the God who formed the universe and breathed breath into the lungs of mankind, the God who multiplied the loaves and fishes, can multiply your offering to feed many.

Our reward will often be intangible on this side of Heaven – a joy that wells up in our heart, filling our souls in a way that the riches of this world never could.

But I think its pretty awesome that when this poor boy gave up his meal the Lord saw to it that he didn’t go hungry.

He got to eat his lunch while watching thousands eat it as well. You just can’t out-give God. When we taste His goodness, we shall not want.

So – what’s in your hand?

image credit: www.skywriting.net

This world can be exhausting. We rise to cries of children or pulsing alarm clocks, gulp down a quick breakfast or skip it altogether, often rushing out the door to attack or be attacked by another day.

Just when we think we’re keeping up quite well with the ever-quickening pace of the crowd, our feet slip and we get trampled. We hobble home bruised and wearied, only to be met with another set of needs that only appears to be increasing. Home repairs to be done, cars to be washed, clothes to be cleaned, kids to be fed and bathed.

When we go through these motions each day without getting energized ourselves, life really does become a daily grind. And yet – it doesn’t have to be this way and indeed this is not how life was meant to be lived.

There will always be more work to do, more clothes or toys to be put away, more emails to be answered- and we must fulfill our responsibilities. But our souls are more important than all the world’s “more’s.” And in tending to our souls, we will thrive instead of survive and flourish instead of fall.

What does soul care look like? It requires viewing yourself not as a machine that can go on producing and working til the end, but a whole person to be valued – one with physical, emotional, and deep spiritual needs to be filled.

Soul care requires time for rest and reflection. Time for play and fun. Time for deeper introspection and meditation. And time to just be without any agenda at all.

As Henry David Thoreau has said, “Sometimes, in a summer morning, having taken my accustomed bath, I sat in my sunny doorway from sunrise till noon, rapt in reverie.” The world God has created is awesome and worth standing in awe of daily.

Feeling the wind on our faces, soaking our feet in the water of a pond or lake, enjoying the view atop a great mountain, or even stooping to admire the first flower buds peeking up through the cold, winter ground.

We have been created for beauty, joy, love and peace. When we deny ourselves of these commodities, we shrink and shrivel as human beings.

And there is only one source to tap – God Almighty. Every expression of beauty, every act of love that energizes and enriches us, every conversation that stirs our souls and encourages our spirits is a gift from Him.

So it makes sense that when we stop running, slow down, and wait in His Presence, we will be filled. Filled with understanding that we are not human doings but human beings. Filled with a greater awe of His power and majesty and a greater understanding and healing of our own self worth.

We may think we don’t have time to wait, but there is nothing else worth waiting for – He alone can satisfy.

Maybe you are running on fumes this week – or caffeine, or just adreneline – but you feel your crashing point is coming. Stop the madness.

Come away with the Savior to a quiet place and rest awhile. Let Him renew your soul and fill you with His loving Presence. Any amount of distractions will seek to pull you away from that resting place, this is certain.

For a moment…or an hour…or even longer – just stop, and wait, and let yourself be filled up, rapt in reverie.

And you may rise to pound the pavement like everyone else, but your heart will be soaring as you go.

photo credit: www.crowfieldsanctuary.org

“Now when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet, saying to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled. And he said,“Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” Jesus wept. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”

~ John 11:32-36

It has always struck me how Jesus responded when his good friends Mary and Martha let Him know about Lazarus: “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” He didn’t jump up and run out the door. He didn’t act surprised. Instead, Scripture says that he stayed in the place where he was for two more days.

His reason? “This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” He knew His Father’s intended outcome for Lazarus to be raised from the dead, that God might be glorified.

But his friends did not know this. When He finally arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had died and his friends were mourning. Martha said, “Lord, if you would have been here my brother would not have died.”

Instead of giving a cold, unfeeling, religious response like “I know what I’m doing – don’t you have any faith?!” He spent some time with Martha, assuring her with truth, “Your brother will rise again…I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live” (verses 23 and 25), encouraging her to affirm her faith in Him. And she did, even though she still didn’t understand what Jesus was about to do.

He wept with His friends Mary and Martha not because He didn’t know why this was happening (He did) nor because He couldn’t do anything about it (He could and He was actually about to in only a few minutes). He wept because He loved them, He loved Lazarus, and He could see and feel their anguish. He shared in their pain.

Jesus cares deeply about the pain of His children. He doesn’t always raise the dead (like He did with Lazarus), He doesn’t always take the pain away – but He does promise never to leave us – even weeping with us and catching our tears when they fall.

Psalm 56:8 says, “You number my wanderings; Put my tears into Your bottle; Are they not in Your book?” He wants to carry us, be our refuge in the midst of our suffering and pain.

He can have genuine compassion because He’s felt it all: rejection, betrayal, abandonment, hatred, deep sorrow, physical pain, torture, and an excruciating death. He understands this fallen world because He’s been here and left us an example to follow in His steps.

We serve a God who, even in His omniscience and sovereignty, weeps with those who weep. And He calls us to do the same: “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15).”

Sometimes, in the midst of great suffering, there are no answers – no perfect words or instant solutions for the immediate pulsing pain at hand. But there is always the gift of Presence. The warmth of arms wrapped tight around the hurting. The hot wet tears – liquid love – falling in unison with the one you care for will speak more than 1,000 words.

They speak a language all their own:

“I may not hold the remedy to your pain, but I enter it with you.”

“You will not feel this alone. You will not endure this alone. I am here with you.”

We don’t have to live in this world very long to experience pain. And it is likely that you or someone you love is experiencing something very difficult right now.

You may be afraid to be vulnerable – to let your pain become known.

But He is poised with His bottle, ready to catch your tears.

Ready to calm you with His presence.

Ready to bear you up with His love.

Ready to resurrect you, to give you new life.

He is ready, because He is a God who is unashamed to weep with His friends.