Disciple. You've declared yourself one of His--or rather He declared you one, and you followed. Ever since, you've been following Him all over the countryside as He starts this crazy revival. He touches the diseased, He walks among the people, He sleeps wherever His head lands. He says the craziest, most confusing, most wonderful things--and everywhere He goes, hope springs up like flowers in the sun. And now you're standing in the middle of a village, gulping down your fear, and you're telling the world. You're reaching out tentative hands and you're watching as His power heals those you touch. You're becoming part of something you never dreamed of, and His hope carries you like a tidal wave all the way back to His love.
You all come back together and He pulls you away for a rest. He grins and listens as the stories pour forth, all of you with bright eyes telling of the wonder. Revival. Hope. The world is waking to the possibility of His kingdom here, now, right among them. And here you are, right in the midst.
The people find you and follow. They come and come and come, just coming, just waiting for that hope to rain on them again. And Jesus, He stands up to welcome them.
Amazing how quickly the glow fades. We love serving You, Jesus, but enough already. Your own stomach betrays you. You're hungry. You're tired. The crowd is growing restless. It's time to be done.
Send them away, Jesus, so they can eat. It's a reasonable request. It's been a long day. But Jesus just looks at you with that grin on His face.
You feed them.
There's a lot of people. Thousands of them. You suddenly remember that you're just a fisherman.
You have only this small thing. You are not enough.
Jesus shakes His head at you and He's still grinning. Give me what you have. Somehow you feel foolish as you hand it over.
The crowds sit, and as Jesus just keeps breaking bread and grinning at you, you walk among these hope-starved people and you put this miracle into their upheld hands. And you wonder how you got to be a part of this at all, you, with your doubts and your insecurities and your ignorance. You give and you give, and you have enough. And after it's all over, you each pick up a basketful of much more than you started with.
He doesn't say anything, but His look asks if you get it yet.
He already gave you His authority. And His authority is always enough. How quickly we forget.
You looked at the bread in your hands, and you looked at the crowd, and it wasn't sufficient. But Jesus took the bread and looked to His Father, and it was more than enough to meet all the need and overflow back into your own life. And even later, when you step out of a tiny boat in the midst of a raging storm and you look at the waves, you sink. But when you look at His face and you take His outstretched hand, you walk on water.
What has He called you to? He always gives you enough for whatever He asks of you. You already have His authority. Take a look at those little loaves in your hand and remember Jesus grinning at you in delight, waiting to watch you be part of His miracle.
