Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Thoughts on Fish, Bread, and Parenting...

A friend died yesterday. He was a godly husband and father who genuinely cared about people. He worked hard, he taught his children to love God, he treated everyone with respect. He met my husband at a fellowship once and every time he saw me after that, he asked about him. Not just to be nice, but because he was concerned that my husband didn't attend church. We had several conversations about my husband's beliefs and I know he prayed for us. He cared about my husband's soul...and he barely knew him.

On the way to work, before I heard the bad news, I was listening to a kids' song that had me crying again. The song is called "When Mama Fixed a Lunch," and it's about a mom who fixed her son a lunch of fish and bread and then sent him to learn from Jesus. Of course, Jesus used that lunch to feed thousands of people. The reason the song gets me is because it reminds me of how important those little daily, mundane tasks are when Jesus gets hold of them. "She didn't know how far it would go when Mama fixed a lunch one day." How often do we get bogged down in the boring routine of parenting? Wiping noses and bottoms; fixing meals and snacks; cleaning houses, toys, clothes, dishes; tucking kids into bed; singing the ABCs twenty-three times in a row; driving to soccer, church, Boy Scouts, Awana. And then getting up and doing it all again the next day. It can be draining, can't it? Sometimes I wonder why I'm doing it all.

But the boy in the story had someone who cared for him, who provided for him, who fixed him a lunch before he left. That's more than I can say for anyone else in the story. The other people were hungry; they obviously hadn't thought about preparing for lunch time. The disciples didn't know what to do. But Jesus did. He wasn't going to send them away. He knew that the people needed to hear what he was saying to them. They needed him. When he told the disciples to find some food, Andrew found the boy and his basket of bread and fish. As surprising as it is to me, the disciples didn't expect this miracle. I don't know why. They had seen Jesus perform miracles before, they knew the story of Elijah and the widow woman's oil, but for some reason they didn't expect this. But when they gave the boy's lunch to Jesus, he gave thanks for it and he distributed it between the people. After they fed the 5000-plus people, they had 12 baskets of leftover bread.

I get a few lessons from this story. One is that Jesus cared about the physical needs of the people he was talking to. He knew they were hungry, but he wanted to keep teaching them because they needed to hear what he was saying. But he couldn't just ignore that hunger. He had felt hunger, and he sympathized. Jesus, because he walked the earth in a human body, has experienced hunger and pain. And he took care of these people. When I start feeling run-down and exhausted from all that parenting, I need to ask him to sustain me so I can keep doing what I know he needs me to do.

Another lesson is that I need to keep listening. Jesus was standing in front of this crowd of people teaching them valuable truths about God. They were learning from the true Messiah. I envy that. I wish I could see and feel and hear him. I sometimes feel lost and confused and wish he would just send me a detailed memo telling me exactly what he wants from me. But I also know that if I'll stop worrying about those little things that I think I have to worry about, and focus on Jesus, he'll take care of me and talk to me. I need to stop worrying so much about today's pet project and pick up my Bible.

And the third lesson is that I get from this is about that boy's mom. She did what any loving parent does: she provided. She knew he would get hungry, so she fixed him a lunch. Simple. And yet, in the hands of Christ, that one little act of love and provision was multiplied thousand-fold. Think of what that means to us. Every little act of provision and love can be multiplied through our children. My children will grow up having seen just a kernel of God's love in me, and as long as they let God have a hand in their lives, the results can be miraculous. Thousands of people saw God's love and provision in that little lunch that day. Many, many more have learned of it since. How many might see that love and provision through our children's lives?

My friend died yesterday, but he left behind two children who know God. They have seen in their father's life a kernel of God's love. He provided and cared for those children because he knew that they were God's provision for his life, and he repaid that by teaching God's love to those kids. I know they will suffer. I know that Caleb will struggle with his anger, and I know that the whole family will have unanswered questions. But they knew a father who loved and provided for them, and I know that in some way, God will multiply that in their lives.