More from Matthew

I can't seem to get out of Matthew 15.

After Jesus left the region of Tyre and Sidon;
after He had healed the 'Little-Dog-Woman-of-Great-Faith's' daughter;
He skirted around the Sea of Galilee and went up into the mountain
and sat down.

Over 4,000 people came to Him there,
bringing their sick, lame, blind,
and otherwise needy friends and family,
and they laid them at Jesus' feet
and He healed them all.

Can you imagine the party and the
faith flowing freely
as one person after another was healed?

Jesus didn't 'do' a mass healing.
He ministered personal healing
with personal touches and words.
This took a good three days
and even after everyone was healed,
no one wanted to leave this mountain
of heaven on earth.

Jesus, however, knew it was time for Him to move on
but first He wanted to feed everyone
because it is one thing to not be hungry
amidst joy and wholeness
and quite another thing
to journey back down the mountain
toward home on an empty stomach.

So, He put the problem of food to the disciples
and they asked Him, "Where could we possibly
get enough food in the wilderness to feed all
of these people?

Their question reminds me of the Psalmist's
writings in Chapter 78.
He recorded the miracles that God performed
for the Children of Israel,
and then, when they had another need,
they said things like,
"Sure, He gave us streams of water from a rock,
but can He give bread also?
Can God provide a table in the wilderness?"
And this made God furious
because they did not believe Him
or trust in His salvation.

And here again,
Jesus had down all these great things
for His children,
and yet the disciples wondered where they
would find enough food to put on this
table in this wilderness.

And I realize, sadly, how many times I do this to Him.
"Yes, you have helped me through many troubles,
but I am not sure if You are big enough to help
me through this one."
Sometimes,
I am more of an atheist with fearful controlling ways
than I am a trusting thankful believer.

Lord, I believe.
Help my unbelief.

And that's what He did for the disciples.
He helped their unbelief.
He didn't get mad this time.

"How many loaves of bread do you have?" He asked.
"Seven, and a few fish," they answered.

And Jesus blessed what little they had
and fed the multitude
and from the seven loaves of bread
came seven baskets of leftovers.

I wonder if the people took food with them on their journey home.
Their hands would have been free to carry bread
because they were no longer using crutches,
or carrying litters, or leading the blind.
I wonder if they shared their miracle bread
with others they met on the way.

Sometimes,
the needs of the multitude overwhelm us.
We think they are taken care of-
healed and made whole-
and then Someone points out that
they are also hungry and then we've got
to worry about feeding them.
With humans,
it's always one thing or another.

Jesus took the time to relate to people on a personal
level when He healed them,
but He fed them enmasse.
He put His disciples to work to organize the multitude,
then He gave thanks, broke the bread,
gave the food to His disciples,
and they passed it out to the people.
His personal touch was obvious
but so were His administrative skills.

God and Jesus have asked interesting questions
over the years.
To Moses, God asked,
"What's that in your hand?
You think it is just a rod,
but it is really a serpent
that will swallow other serpents.
It will part waters so My people
can walk on dry land across the sea.
You think it is a piece of wood,
but by trusting Me,
and obeying Me by using what you have,
you will come to see it as
the arm of the LORD,
working wonders for My people."

To the obviously blind and lame, Jesus asked,
"What do you want Me to do for you?"
and "Do you want to be whole?"

Sometimes,
we want Christ's forgiveness
but we don't want to be whole.
We want the attention our sickness affords.
We don't want the responsibility
that comes with being made whole.

And to the disciples He asked,
"How many loaves do you have?"
And their answer held the obvious answer,
"Not enough to feed this crowd."

We are human.
We've only got a rod,
the excuse of sickness,
and a measly seven loaves of bread to feed thousands.
We don't have enough.
We're not going to always get it right.

And even though I thought I loved and trusted Christ
for years,
I am realizing anew,
that if I don't trust Him now,
I will become an absolute control freak.

That if I don't really believe that He is bigger than life's problems
and that He has conquered sin and death
and that nothing can separate me from His love
and that He works everything together for good-
if I don't really trust Him,-
then the rod I hold in my hand
will be nothing but an earthly weapon to use out of fear,
and I will choose to pull the covers over my head
and remain in hiding
because I don't want to face life
and be made whole,
and I will hoard my seven loaves and few fishes
until they are eaten by bugs and rodents.

All of this comes down to one question.
Two actually.

Do I trust Him?
And,
Will I obey Him?
For Moses had to use his rod in the way God commanded him;
the lame had to get up;
the blind had to wash the mud off their eyes;
and the disciples had to break the loaves
and start passing them out.

There comes a crisis moment when God says to us,
"Throw down your rod, get up and walk, and break the bread."
"What if's" want to take dominance.
"What if nothing happens when I do what He says?
What if my rod stays a rod?
What if it makes just a silly little splash in the "Red Sea?"
What if I wash the mud off my eyes and I am still blind?
What if I can only feed 14 people when I break the loaves
in half?

Faith is risky.
Presumption is dangerous.
And sometimes they look the same.
We must know His word and His ways.
We must know His voice.
And we must know Him.

He works outside of man's box
but He works within the perimeter's of
His Father's Kingdom and His rules
of authority, wisdom, and honor.

He won't ask us to do things contrary to His Word.
Many a saint's faith has been ship-wrecked when they
acted on something they thought God had told them to do
when God would never consider saying
such a thing in the first place.

But even in the mistakes we make discerning
hearing His voice, He teaches and redeems,
saying, "This is what My voice really sounds like
and this is My Word on the matter."
So even in our mistakes,
we can better learn to know
the voice of the Shepherd.

Sometimes,
life happens,
and our itty-bitty God boxes get
blown to bits.

Sometimes,
I feel like I am just starting
my walk of faith.

I am thinking anew
about trusting Him
and obeying Him.

The choices to trust and obey
are minute by minute choices.
Do I trust or do I worry?
Do I obey or do I shrink back?

One thing I do know is this.
I have never regretted trusting Him.
And I always wish I had trusted Him more.

And with obedience
comes a cross,
but with obedience,
also comes joy.