Loaves and Fishes, by Lisa BordenLisa Borden - 28 Mar 2007

Every now and again I become acutely aware of how small I am.  It would probably be healthy if I felt the truth of this more often but likely I would cave to my frailty and be debilitated.  

Let me say it now: I am small.  

I am small in the face of the aggressive culture surrounding me, pulling, hooking, steering me.

I am small in the face of the pain locked in hearts on every side.  Yes, small in the face of the overwhelming need for inner healing, freedom, wholeness, and life.

I am so very small in the face of the issues in Africa.

Africa is approximately 53 nations struggling toward health, peace, provision for their people, and life in some form other than extreme poverty.   AIDS, drought, famine, warlords, natural disaster, lack of healthy leadership, corruption, racial issues, greed, poverty and injustice…  These are words that come to mind.  The issues are deep, systemic and accompanied by forces that are not particularly interested in giving up their power.

I am very small indeed.

Against every sensible thought in my head, I hold onto the idea that God uses the small.  

A small baby was born in Bethlehem.  A small group of men became his followers some thirty years later.  A small group of believers held onto an unlikely conviction that He was, in fact, the Christ, risen from the dead and now reigning at the right hand of God.  Though the majority of the population had wanted him dead and had succeeded in crucifying him, a small band believed he was and is the path to salvation.

And yet I so easily dismiss the comfort that comes from remembering that small baby because I know that he was, after all, God incarnate.  He was only wrapped in a small, frail infant's body.

I, on the other hand, truly am small.

Then I recall a small boy with a packed lunch.  He was probably even smaller than me and the gifts he offered for the Lord’s use were nothing if not humble.  Some fish… a few loaves.  These were very plain gifts-- homey, homely, unglamorous, unimpressive gifts.  A lunch!  The boy gave Jesus his lunch!  

And Jesus did great things with that lunch.

It occurs to me that Jesus accepted that offering gladly.  He didn’t look disdainfully at the meagerness of it all and sort of sigh, “Oh, uh... fine. If that’s all you have...”

No, Jesus took it and gave thanks for it.  He blessed it.

Through it he then provided for a great multitude with such abundance that baskets and baskets of leftovers had to be gathered up afterward.

I am returning to Africa to be part of a small group of friends who all want to give our loaves and our fishes to God’s purposes there.  When all is said and done, what we offer is truly unimpressive.  But God is not.   He takes our sad little gifts and He is thankful for them!   Then He blesses them and uses them.  We know this is true because we have watched him do it.

Next Page: Small Gifts Bloom in Kenya Among the Maasai