Day 103: Matthew 14:19–21

Everyone ate and was filled. Then they picked up 12 baskets full of leftover pieces (v. 20).

I just have to share a thought with you about this astounding miracle of Jesus, this feeding of the five thousand with His disciples’ mere fishes and loaves.

At the age of twenty, my older daughter was asked to speak to a group of teenage girls in Oklahoma. Of my two children she is the shy one. With horror on her face, she told me she was certain God was telling her to say yes. I cannot express to you how far outside her comfort zone this was at the time.

The butterflies never left her stomach from the time of the invitation until the day of the conference. What emotion flooded my heart as I put her on that plane to go speak—instead of the other way around. Contrary to her worst fears, she lived through it! And the young women received a sound message from the Word . . . even if the voice was a little shaky here and there.

The next morning she called me with such a tender heart, her voice cracking, and said, “Mom, I just had my time with the Lord . . . and He was so . . . sweet.”

I knew exactly what she was talking about. I said, “Oh, my precious child, you have just experienced that which would be worth selling all your earthly possessions to gain, and yet it’s a gift of grace: divine approval. The smiling nod of God. Nothing like it.”

With the slightest whisper, my very humble, gentle child said, “Yes.”

I’m fighting back tears at the thought. You see, this act of obedience was terribly difficult for her. She could have provided a list of other students, but she didn’t. In effect she said, “All I have is this pitiful handful of fish and loaves,” and Jesus said, “Bring them to me.” When all was said and done, she wasn’t sure what the girls had received, but God had given her bread from His Word and she had distributed it the best she knew how.

Amanda was glad to have survived . . . but imagine her surprise when she didn’t just survive. The next morning as she sat before the Lord, He handed her a basketful of leftovers. She had been willing to be a disciple. A learner. A novice. He would not have dreamed of leaving her empty-handed.

You either, my friend. It’s not His style.