Leftovers-- again?

When they had all had enough to eat, Jesus said to his disciples, “Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted.” So they gathered them and filled twelve baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten. --John 6:12-13

I have had leftovers for at least one meal, every day, for the last five days. One day was potato salad, another some really tasty bean casserole. I still have some pepperoni pizza waiting for me for lunch today. And-- there was cake!

It's not even 11:00 and my tummy is telling me lunch time better be pretty darned soon. Somehow, my breakfast oatmeal has up and left already.

Every day, as I have paused before digging in to those leftovers, I have been struck by the abundance of life.

I know it's cliche-- but it is also painfully true. There are people, especially children, in many parts of the world who go to bed hungry, wake up hungry-- spend their lives in a state of perpetual hunger.

In Haiti, following the devastating earthquake, stories came back about the "mud cookies" the children would bake in the sun. They were, quite literally, mostly dirt, mixed with a little sugar and some liquid, dried in the sun, and eaten by the children to stave off their hunger-- because they had nothing else to eat.

Can you imagine?

As children we made mudpies. But they were pretend, and our mothers would have had a fit if we had actually eaten them. In this country, children who eat dirt receive attention, because after all, eating anything that is not food is called a pica, and must mean there is a deficiency not being met. Not enough iron, perhaps.

Or, in Haiti? Not enough food.

And I have-- leftovers. More food than our whole family could eat on a Sunday afternoon, so we divvied up the rest and took it home in plastic containers.

Such abundance! And yet we often sound off as though we are living in a time of scarcity and lack.

We cannot afford a new car-- even as the old one runs just fine. We want a bigger house-- a smaller house in a better neighborhood. 

But look around you. What are you really hungering for? What would truly fill your tired, empty soul? 

The crowds, thousands upon thousands of hungry people, followed Jesus because they had seen what he was doing, for the blind man, for the cripple-- and they wondered. What might Jesus be able to do-- for me? 

And when Jesus fed them, they were satisfied. Filled to the brim. They wanted for nothing. And there were leftovers. Twelve baskets of 'em. Good golly, Miss Molly, that is a lot of crusty barley bread!

Abundance. More than we can even ask for, given before a syllable leaves our lips. 

As a people richly blessed, as people who profess to know this God of abundance, should we not, like the disciples, be passing the Bread of Life to those who are hungry? 

So take a break. Feed yourself. Heat up those leftovers, or make a sandwich, or maybe today is your day to let someone else do the cooking. 

And as you prepare to eat, even if you are not a typical grace-sayer, stop for a moment.

Look at that plate. Close your eyes and breathe deeply. (Can you smell the peanut butter? Or the jelly?) 

Blessed are you. For the Lord God loves you so much, he provides. Period.

Gracious, loving God of abundance, slow us down. Grind us to a halt in our daily busy-ness and open our eyes to see how blessed we are. Help us remember that blessing takes many forms. Help us understand what matters. Amen.