“Jesus feeds the two hundred.” That sounds like a subtitle of one of the stories from the Gospel, but it isn’t. It sounds like something Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John might have written about, but they didn’t. It sounds like something that might be in this week’s upcoming Sunday School lesson, but you will not find it in there. Regardless of those things, after what our mission team and I experienced last week while feeding kids in Haiti, I feel like the story I am about to share was cut straight from the pages of one of the Gospels.
It was a hot Wednesday morning, and despite the rain the previous night, word had gotten out that we were having VBS for the kids. VBS is exciting because the kids get to learn about Jesus, sing fun songs, do crafts that reinforce the lesson…and they also get food. With the call to assemble, which was usually music playing loudly from the church, the crowd of kids showed up. We sang “Father Abraham” and several other songs. We taught them about Jesus, the parable of the mustard seed, and how great things come from even the smallest of beginnings. Then, we did crafts and games with them, allowing them to just be kids and enjoy themselves.
As lunchtime drew nearer, we gathered them back into the church so they could eat. We had not prepared for so many to show up. An early count put the total at 167 kids, but many others had arrived late. We estimated the number to be at 200 now. What were we going to do? How would we feed them all? We entered the church with food in hand, carrying the heavy tubs of rice and beans…but that weight was nothing compared to the weight on our hearts. Sending kids away hungry was more than we could bear.
We started the assembly line, passing each kid a plate of rice and beans and two sausages. We watched in anticipation as each scoop diminished the quantity left in the cook pots. We realized we would not have enough. The kids that had not yet received a plate of food realized, through our expressions and tears, that they were not going to get to eat. They joined us in crying and grieving.
But we were not finished, and more importantly, God was not either. We had been talking all week about praying expectantly, knowing that God would respond to the needs of his children. So we all began to pray, expectantly, asking God to multiply the rice and beans as he had done with the five loaves and two fish. The plates kept coming, the hand signals going back to the cooks letting them know how many more we needed…4 more, 3 more, 2 more….and finally scrapping what was left out of the final pot, the last plate arrived. God had done it. God fed the last kid there that day.
Through tears, we thanked God. Through tears we had learned the power of praying expectantly. Through tears, we saw God show up in a big way. As we walked away that day, humbled by the experience, I could not help but wonder how the disciples felt in Matthew 14:20-21 as Jesus took the five loaves and two fish and fed the multitudes:
“And they all ate and were satisfied. And they took up twelve baskets full of broken pieces left over. And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.”
The twelve disciples left that day carrying a reminder that God can do all things. In my mind, as they each picked up one of the twelve baskets, they were reminded to pray expectantly. They were reminded that regardless of how big their problems were, God is bigger. We left the church that day, not with a basket full of loaves and fish to remind us about God’s faithfulness, but instead our reminder came as we saw God in the smiling faces of the kids as they left the church building. There were kids who showed up hungry and expecting, and who left satisfied and fulfilled by wonder and grace of an almighty and gracious God.
