Our focus is on the downtrodden these days. Maybe it’s the media. Or the internet with its potent visuals making the world that much smaller. Maybe more of us are finding ourselves among their ranks, or dangerously close. Maybe the reality that it could happen to us brings it closer to home.
Whatever the reason, we’re examining our lifestyles, questioning our values, noticing our purchases. We’re feeling the tug on our heartstrings.
It can seem overwhelming, the outstretched hands, haunting eyes, and big wide smiles saying we need you. How to fill the empty bellies and hollow hearts of children halfway across the globe or in the next town? Everything I have is a drop swallowed up by an ocean of need.
And there’s my own need, my family’s. Small in comparison, but real nonetheless. It can seem like there’s not enough to go around. Nor will there ever be. Jesus said we’ll always have the poor with us. Because people will always be selfish or this cursed earth is just that way, I don’t know.
When they pass around the bucket at church for this cause or that, it can seem like God’s looking for hand outs. Like he needs the scrapings from the bottom of the barrel to piece together funding for his projects. To feed his children.
But God doesn’t need my money. I need him.
He taps me on the shoulder, dropping his heart into mine. I offer my five loaves and two fish and watch him lift it to heaven, blessing it and breaking it to feed his children.
God owns more than I could ever offer. He has it all. But there he is using my five loaves and two fish because he wants to bless me, too.