The Gospel reading for yesterday -- at least for the Greek Orthodox -- was the story of the feeding of the five thousand. You all know the story so I am not going to recap it for you here.
What has been rattling around in my head on it is the part where everybody has eaten their fill and the disciples are picking up the left overs. Do you remember exactly what it says about that? Here it is:
I want to believe that. I do. But, there are some things about me that seem pretty unredeemable. And it seems like maybe they should be wasted. You know, you've got to know when to cut your losses. There are some things... I just don't see it.
It's the "...that nothing may be lost" part that's got me thinking.
I have heard people say that nothing is ever wasted, that God finds a way to use everything.
I hate to be so faithless.
If God is going to gather up the scraps of my life that means He will see them I suppose. My inclination is to ignore them. "Oh, those little scraps... well, Lord, let's just leave those." I want to move on without God seeing some things. There are some things that it would be easier to loose, rather than have them exposed to the light of redemption. Ouch! Couldn't we just leave a few scraps?
"...that nothing may be lost."
I believe in miracles. I've seen God turn heart anguish into bliss. He's done it for me! Yet there is a piercing, there is pain in such transformation and for some reason I continually avoid it.
I hope it's true. I hope that God can make something of the useless and irredeemable pieces of me.
I hope I am not too much in His way.
Such high hopes early this morning.