“Picasso’s Sardines” by Black Cafe Rose
One of my favorite things about the gospels is how often I read a passage and think it can’t possibly contain anything new for me—and then I get whopped upside the head with a big idea I’ve missed.
That happened to me the other day when I was reading Matthew’s chapter 14 account of Jesus feeding the 5,000. What caught my highly developed sensitivities was the phrase—“besides women and children.” As if women and children aren’t real people and only sort of count? Ack!
If Matthew were alive today, imagine how anxious he’d be to edit that part!
But that’s not what I want to write about today. What caught my heart was noticing for the first time ever that Jesus didn’t feed the 5,000.
His disciples did. His followers noticed the need and worried about it—so kudos to them for that. But their initial solution was one I recognize: “We can’t deal with this. Send them away!”
Jesus had a better idea. “How about you give them something to eat. Whatcha got?”
The disciples brought Jesus what they had, which wasn’t remotely close to enough: Fives loaves of bread and two measly fish.
Jesus didn’t blink. He took the small offerings “and blessed and broke and gave them to his disciples; and the disciples gave to the multitudes.” You probably know the rest of the story—they ended up with leftovers (alas, no Tupperware).
You gotta love that. The God of the universe could have just twitched his nose like Samantha on Bewitched—and wallah—a banquet, right down to separate courses and matching spoons. Instead, Jesus stood by and watched his bumbling disciples deliver a miracle of historic proportions.
He did it this way for their sake, of course. To show them—and us—that it is in the act of offering to others what little we have that it becomes more than enough.
I find this story especially comforting in the context of my blog and book. Some days, it feels like all I have to offer is one sardine on toast when what readers really need is a feast.
I forget that this is how it’s supposed to be. All I have to give is what I happen to have on hand in that moment. It’s God’s job to multiply it in people’s hearts, if he chooses.
But why should this idea surprise me, when I see it happen in the rooms of recovery all the time?
I especially see it in speaker’s meetings where, for a single hour, a nervous alcoholic (who may have been living under a bridge as recently as last year) addresses a room of ten, fifty, or even a hundred or more people.
All the addict has to share is his or her story, and it usually comes out with plenty of ums and head scratching and rabbit trails. But as they share, people looking for help find hope. We nearly always leave the room feeling strangely satisfied.
It’s a beautiful irony isn’t it? That such a large part of healing addictions—characterized by a gnawing sense that we can’t ever get enough—is to allow what little we do have to be blessed, broken and given.
God does the miracle, of course. But in his grace, he gives us a part. Whether in recovery or just in life, God invites us to notice a need, care about it, and be willing to step up. Only then can he turn our not enoughs into the more someone is hungry for—with leftovers to spare.
Lord, make me willing.
Here’s my sardine.
I love everything about this post, Heather. Mostly, the message of do my part and count on God for the results. How many times do I have to be told?
Heather – thank you for the original post but these words in one of your comments below really spoke to me – ‘I am slowly stumbling toward the place of letting God’s grace make up for what I lack.’ What a relief!! Letting God’s grace make up for what I lack! I don’t have to try so hard to be all and do all. Thank you. I needed to hear all of this today.
You’re gonna laugh, but so did I. This is such a good word for me this morning. A ricochet. Thank you!!
What a wonderful sentiment and expressed so well, thanks for this.
Thanks for taking time to encourage me, Leigh! It means me a lot.
I hope and pray that you know how much your words matters in this place. I suspect you do. But just in case you had some doubts about that, I thought I ought to mention it. Your loaves and fishes are filling hungry people.
Jennifer, that means so much to me. I am slowly stumbling toward the place of letting God’s grace make up for what I lack. But no matter how much we spiritualize our writing–rightly so, most of the time–it is always wonderful to hear encouraging words like yours. I’m going to let these go all the way in. Thank you.
Wonderful!
Thanks, Katherine. Really. Even one word is a bowl of sweets to a blogger.
I love that feeling when you end up at a meeting feeling really crappy and you hear someone’s story and you leave with such a new feeling of hope. Our stories are all the same yet sound so different most of the time, but it doesn’t matter. I always feel so much better when I hear something in someone’s story that causes me to think “yes! that’s me!” because then you can believe that if that person can be sober then I can too. I have one week sober today and I’m struggling to hang on! Prayers appreciated! Vanda
Oh, me too! Amazing how that works. It’s rare that someone’s story doesn’t deeply move me, and in that case it usually means they didn’t really share their story, you know what I mean? The theme of I was lost and then I got found, I was hopeless and then I found hope–that never one never fails to resonate. So glad you wrote, Vanda.
Good morning Heather, THANK YOU for your sardine, it went down as a five course meal. Your words always fill my heart up, but especially today. In pondering what’s next and the transition into 2013, God keeps impressing on me to not care so much about specifics but of the principle he calls us to of being his ressurecction and renewal everyday. He will multiply and perfect our gifts and intentions beyond our wildest imagination, thus blessing the giver and those who receive. Love you, thanks. Rebecca.
Rebecca. My precious friend. I am so glad to hear from you today. Your name lights me up. We miss you. And I love this comment so much–”being his resurrection and renewal every day.” And yes, “He will multiply and perfect our gifts and intentions beyond our wildest imagination…” Thanks for these words in return for mine. I won the bargain. Hugging you and yours.
I had that same experience of reading a familiar passage and finding something so new I swear God just added it. It was Psalm 23 and the translation said will “guide my right path.” I was feeling really sick about a path I thought God was leading me towards and realized in that small phrase that God was not leading me on that path: anxiety was. Good post, Heather!
Wow, great insight, Charise. I love that idea of God guiding the right path, not letting anxiety leads us. I love when God uses some “old” tired piece of Scripture to say something new to us personally. Thanks for sharing.
We just don’t get to know what God will do with whatever we have to offer. Our goal is to offer it freely and lovingly. As for you, dear Heather, I start my day with your column and am given so much. Even better, I’m able to pass it on. Reading Kari’s post reminds me that we all experience seasons in life. Time to feed and serve, time to receive. Both are of great value for all. God will always use all things for good to those who love Him and called according to His purpose. My job is to stay out of the way and remember He doesn’t need me to manage it!
Great point. We don’t get to know what God will do… and when we give to others, we don’t get to decide what they’ll do with it either. What do you mean God doesn’t need me to manage it?
Love your comments, Martha.
It must be in the air this week. I was pondering on this a few days ago. I was feeling sad because I have been unemployed for so long and have nothing extra to give to anyone. But I was wrong about that. I have time, an iconoclastic blog post and (had) a small bit of “mad money.” Having something to give was reassuring when I got another job rejection email. Thank you for putting it all together, Heather.
Ack. Sorry about the job thing. Sucks. I love your attitude. I’d hire you in a heartbeat! I isn’t it amazing how just realizing that we have something to give makes us feel a little richer? Hugs to you. H
Thank you, Heather. Now I have something else: encouragement.
I continue to get so much out of your blog; thanks for this. Recently I was pondering the Christmas song “In the Bleak Midwinter” and the line, “What can I give Him, poor as I am?” This helps answer that question: whatever I “happen to have on hand at the moment.” Thanks for the reminder.
Oh Jeannie, I’m so glad you continue to get something out of my small offerings. “Poor as I am,” God is so rich. And the smaller I know I am, the more room there is for him to show up big. Your comment encouraged me today.
My favorite NT story! So many lessons packed into it. At the other end of the miracle Jesus used his disciples to distribute the multiplied loaves and fish even though he could have zapped a portion in front of each person.
You’re right. It is so packed with amazing truths. Thanks so much for stopping by Roy and for responding here. Means so much.
Gratefully accepted – may I offer you some toast!
Ha. You’re so funny. I like my toast dark, almost burned, by the way.
This stirs my soul and refocuses my heart. And you did that with your offering up of what you had today…and I think that is very very good.
Ah. Very, very good, Such simple words that go straight to my heart and make me glad I shared this. Thanks for giving back to me, Elizabeth. Ever since I watched your vlog, I love that I can picture you and your pretty face better.
“This is how it’s supposed to be.” Profound, Heather.
How many times do we make helping about us and not about those being helped? If all I have today is a kind word and the ability to acknowledge that I hear you, I will offer what I have to my best ability. It may not be much, but I want to offer it freely. Let God magnify it, because … that’s how it’s supposed to be.
Yes, isn’t it amazing how we resist the obvious–that of course we fall short without God’s help? Thanks so much for this beautiful response, as always. I’m hugging you.
Lately, I don’t feel like I have a sardine to offer…just a very messy life.
Aw, I’m sorry. I get that. Some days our lives just feel so messy that we can’t imagine being able to find something to give when we can’t even make our own bed–I mean that metaphorically. But so often it’s in the midst of painful messes that we actually have the most compassion for others, which is a huge thing we can offer that is invisible but oh so real. Even if it’s just saying, You hurting? Me too! I am praying for you right now… Thanks for taking time to right and I hope you’ll keep in touch. If you ever need an ear, I’m available by email, friend.
I agree! I am (so thankfully) coming out of a very dark period. There were times in that period when I said, out loud, “I can’t give anything. I’ve got nothing to give.” What I found out is that honestly sharing my pain and confusion in that moment was my sardine. In sharing it, I helped myself, and then lo and behold, others were helped too! My pain was taken, broken and blessed, and then passed on to feed others.
I’m praying for you too, Kari. Hang on!
I’m reminded of an article I read in Christianity Today last week. It was about a Muslim man who understood Jesus as messiah after having a meager meal multiplied so he could share with a guest. It seems Jesus is still in the business of showing himself to us by meeting our most basic needs. Beautiful insights Heather!
Thanks for commenting, Christine. I’ll have to go find that story! Hugs.
Thanks. With your sardine, the cup of water a woman in the airport gave me, and the hunk of bread I am sure to receive at some point today, it *will* be a feast.
HA. I LOVE this. Thanks, Laura.
thanks Heather, wonderful insight into a story that I have always loved. “that it is in the act of offering to others what little we have that it becomes more than enough” -I needed to hear that today in my personal life as well as in the work my local church has been trying to do for Super Storm Sandy relief.
So wonderful to hear you mention a local church doing work for Sandy relief. The church gets such a bad rap sometimes, but so often they are the last ones to lose enthusiasm for serving. I am so glad you liked this.
“Here’s my sardine.” Love it! As someone who often feels like I am “not enough,” this feeds my soul. Thank you!
Yes, we all struggle with that not enough feeling, and as I wrote in another post once, sometimes it’s easier to just let that be okay and allow God to make up the difference than it is to convince ourselves that we are enough to meet every need or expectation. We both are enough and not enough, depending on how you look at it. When I separate myself from God, I feel woefully not enough. Okay, I’m rambling now. Thanks for saying hi!
Simply gorgeous. Thank you! xo
You’re so welcome, Joanne. So are you!
We have more than enough but we have to give it away to know that. I love paradox!
Marjie, you say it so well. Thanks for reading, friend!