Bigger Than The Problems

The world is a mess.

So many people, since the very beginning, have had terrible lives.  Have lost loved ones.  Have experienced heartbreak.  Have been angry, and hurt, and wanted to die.  Been hurt by our fellow humans, no better than we are.

As you should know, the world was turned upside down with a serious terrorist attack in Paris this past weekend.  The same day several other countries also experienced national tragedies.  Millions upon millions of refugees are fleeing for their lives with absolutely no possessions or security.  Death in the south, closed borders and freezing cold in the North.  Trapped between ISIS and scrambling government leaders wanting them out.  Children in my own county sit in foster care with no family or love.  Orphans live homeless on streets all over the world.

And the internet is worried about the color of coffee cups and minimum wage.

It can be so hard for me to look at the world.  I feel a knot in the pit of my stomach; my heart physically aches.  There is so much pain in the world.  And I can't fix it.

I'm a fixer.  I want to handle the situation, smooth everything out, and keep everyone from getting hurt.  But I can't.  I can't keep other people's relationships together.  I can't comfort every child, or heal every broken heart.  I can't feed every starving, cold parent.  I can't.  But I know someone who can.

I was thinking about the Bible accounts of Christ feeding thousands of people.  (John 6:1-14)  There were 5,000 men, not including women or children.  If you assume there were as many woman and children as men, that is a minimum of 10,000 people.  That is a lot of people.  Think of a place where you know about how many people are there.  At my church on a typical Sunday there are 120 people.  That means the crowd that Christ fed was over 83 times that size.  That is crazy!

Take a minute and actually imagine standing in the middle of that crowd.  You are lost in the middle of thousands of people.  You hear babies crying and mothers comforting children complaining of hunger.  Men start grumbling about how they are supposed to get food so far out in the middle of nowhere.  Then you look down at your hands and see your lunch: a couple loaves of bread and some fish.  You look up helplessly.  There are so many hungry people; and you might have enough to share with one other person, but who do you offer it to?  How could you possibly make a difference with these thousands of people?  But, despite the odds, you decide to try anyway.  You zigzag and push your way to the front of the crowd, calling the attention of the disciples.  You hold up your small basket and ask that it be shown to Jesus.  He should know what to do with it.  He smiles warmly at you, draws the attention of the crowd, and prays over your meal.  You step back and mingle back with the crowd.  The disciples might eat a little, at least.  But instead, before long, the man in front of you hands you a loaf and part of a fish.  You take it in shock, tear the loaf in half, and pass it to the person beside you.  Later, after most everyone has left, you look and see baskets, including yours, filled over with pieces of bread and fish.

This is a true account, and this actually happened to a boy probably younger than most of us.  It was a miracle; not humanly possible.  But because one boy knew he couldn't do anything on his own, and went to Christ, 10,000 people were fed that day. 

I can get overwhelmed with the problems of the world.  There is too much pain.  Too much hurt.  Too many problems.  I can't solve them.  I'm sitting in a crowd with one load of bread surrounded by millions of hungry people.  But I have to take it to the One who can do something.  The One who isn't intimated by sin and pain.  The One that overcame all of this.  The One that can comfort every child, and heal every broken heart.  I don't need to know how God will solve the problem.  I just need to give my all to Him.  The boy didn't perform the miracle.  And Jesus would have brought Glory to God some other way if that boy hadn't stood up.  But he did.  And he spent his time and gave his possessions for Christ's use. 

And what a pleasure it is to serve Jesus Christ.

~Jessica Joy