Far be it from me to not believe
even when my eyes can’t see.
And this mountain that’s in front of me
will be thrown into the depths of the sea.
We sing about moving mountains this morning.
About keeping our eyes on Jesus.
And here he is.
A crowd clamoring about, they’ve heard he’s healed the sick
Or seen if for themselves and they seek him out, needy.
Hungry. (John 6)
The Bread of Life turns and asks his friends where they will get enough bread for everyone.
And we chuckle because we know how the rest of the story goes.
But I can feel Philip’s panic.
And Andrew’s floundering attempt to bring what they could find to Jesus.
They were just learning about this Bread.
I doubt I would have done any better.
And Jesus takes the bread, the tiny offering of a child.
And he gives thanks.
A pocket of sacred space, of breathing gratitude.
And everyone eats and has enough.
Friends, did you see what preceded the miracle?
I don’t know about you, but there are a few miracles I’m praying for in my own little world right now.
Mountains that seem too big.
Crowds that look too hungry.
I feel like I’ve been banging down the doors of heaven for release, for deliverance.
But this week, I’m going to take a step back.
Take a moment to remember that my resources are too small.
But my resources in the hands of a gracious, almighty and all-sufficient God are a completely different story.
This week, I’m going to leave a pocket of sacred space, of breathing gratitude.
This week, I am going to give thanks before the miracle.