Making lunch

Last week, I attended a local Mother’s Tea. It was a long day and I mostly went because I had a good friend who was attending and I wanted to see her.  I’m so glad I was there.

There were speakers meant to encourage moms and they did.  One in particular talked of the Bible story about the little boy with fish and bread for lunch. If you’ve been in church any time at all, you probably know it.  He offers his lunch to Jesus who in turn uses it to miraculously feed thousands of people.  This story is used all the time as an analogy of how we can offer our little bit of whatever and God will do something amazing with it.

Sometimes I find it hard to relate.  I often feel like I’m giving everything and very little amazing is showing up.  But she had a completely different take on this old story.  She asked the question:

Who made the lunch?

Of course, in our setting the answer was his mother.  I don’t know enough about biblical culture to know if it was his mom or not.  But that isn’t the point.  Someone got up and did what they’d done a hundred times.  They made lunch.

Brushing therapy, again.  Listening therapy, again.  Social stories, pictures schedules, again and again and again.  I’m making lunch. And so are you, even if it looks entirely different from mine.

Some days it’s because I believe. Other days it’s because I wish I could.  Everyday it’s because I love her. I have no idea if what I do will bring miracles. But I think we were made for hope.  Whoever packed that lunch had no idea their work would help thousands of people, being recorded and read thousands of years later. They didn’t know that Jesus would use their work to show he is a capable-of-anything-wasting-nothing God.  They just did what they needed to do.

And so can we.  I can get up and do the thing before me. And I will.  But it was good to be reminded that I’m not the only one.  And that miracles are always an option.


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