One afternoon not too long ago, I was on the metro reading a passage in Matthew. It was about Jesus feeding the five thousand. It was a passage that I've read many times before. The disciples see a crowd coming and panic because there's nothing visibly sufficient enough to feed them. Jesus does what is humanly impossible and astounds everyone with a bountiful feast.
Every time I read this miraculous act of God, I was always reassured of His mighty provision in my life.
This time around, I heard my complaints in the disciple's voice. You see, a few minutes before, I just barely made it through the sliding metro doors. My mind travelled back to the homeless man propped against the station wall silently staring at the paper cup placed before him. The first few weeks in Paris, I would drop in some change here and there, but after a while the homeless became just a part of the city setting and I frankly stopped noticing them in the rush of the morning commute. Although I would occasionally pray for them in my head as I passed by, it was evident that I've grown numb to their needs.
As evening approached, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a remote place, and it’s already getting late. Send the crowds away, so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.” Jesus replied, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.” -Matt. 14: 16-1
You give them something to eat. God has given me enough already to help others. He has given me more than enough bread to share, yet I find that I tend to automatically send them to His care... not in faith for bigger things but in laziness. There is nothing wrong with asking God to heal the brokenness of my neighbors, but I realized that often my own motives are broken. So I asked God in the metro that day, Daddy, what could I do? What do you want to do through me? I don't think it's really safe to just sit and talk to them alone, but I want an opportunity to serve them. Daddy, show me a way.
Fast forward to Sunday: the Hillsong citycare team announces several ministry opportunities in the city. One involves going to a woman's shelter and painting their nails on Saturday mornings.
My ears perk up. Excited, I sign up. I attend a meeting held at a young couple's home one night.
After several email exchanges, I'm scheduled to go on Saturday May 7th.
Daddy, you have good ears.
You hear my whisper in a crowded metro.
You are itching to grant my deepest wishes.
Daddy, you answer prayers.
