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It
is one thing to be empty, but when you are asked
to feed someone out of your emptiness, it can be
terrifying." (Macrina
Wiederkehr, A Tree Full of
Angels)
_____________________________
Crumbs
We've
all experienced it. Dryness. Barrenness.
Emptiness.
Someone
comes to us and asks for help and we have so
little to give. They want advice, and we have
barely a word. They look for emotional support and
we have only a sliver of compassion left. The
world demands so much of us that we find ourselves
often running on empty. We have nothing left for
our spouse, our children, our extended family, our
neighbors, or our church
community.
We
can feel so incompetent or foolish. We'd like to
appear wise in everyone's eyes, but how can
light break through our fog? In a world where
quantity of words seems to matter more than
quality, and where silence is an enemy not a
friend, our parched souls grow
terrified.
Crumbs.
That's all we've got. And a prayer, though our
prayers don't seem terribly sublime.
Futility
takes hold. Desperation starts to grip
us. Our lives should be green pastures and
still waters, not parched landscapes.
Then Christ
speaks gently - and patiently - through the
Scripture.
Paradoxically,
as is usual in the Kingdom, our helpfulness does
not demand lush greenery, rich harvests, or
overflowing cisterns. It flows not from our
abundance but from our poverty. When we are
weak, His power dwells in us (see 2 Corinthians
12.9). He takes the crumbs - the scraps we
have left in our lives - and feeds others in ways
we could not
imagine.
The
widow of Zarephath (1 Kings 17) gathered sticks to
prepare a last meal for her son and herself.
Elijah, the prophet, asked her for bread, though
she had only a handful of flour and a few drops of
oil left in this world. She hesitated (as we all
would), then obeyed (as many of us wouldn't). And
the flour and the oil miraculously
multiplied.
A
young boy offered his small lunch to help feed a
crowd (John 6.5-13). His mother had packed enough
for him, not 5000 others. But in the hands of the
Master, it miraculously multiplied. It still
does.
When
we think our lives ought to be highly productive
bakeries, Christ takes the dry crumbs that we
obediently offer Him, and continues to do the
unexpected.
Feeling
dry? Empty? Barren? The way forward lies in
surrender not striving. The miracle of nourishment
is His miracle, if we'll trust
Him.
In
HOPE
-
David | 
