13 When Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. 14 When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick.
15 As evening approached, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a remote place, and it’s already getting late. Send the crowds away, so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.”
16 Jesus replied, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.”
17 “We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish,” they answered.
18 “Bring them here to me,” he said. 19 And he directed the people to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. 20 They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. 21 The number of those who ate was about five thousand men, besides women and children.
Dear God, when I stop and think about the numbers, 5,000 people (not counting women and children) is A LOT of people back then. That’s a good-sized small town. And they had followed Jesus to a remote place that he had chosen for solitude and mourning. He was a rock star by any definition, but he was a rock star that cared about their needs. He not only had compassion and healed their sick. He also cared about their need for food.
But I want to focus for a second on Jesus’ need for a little mourning time after John was killed. This must have been painful for him. John was his cousin, and, while we don’t know how much they knew each other from their childhood and earlier years, we know that they knew each other. We know that they each knew WHO the other was. This was surely something that shook Jesus as he made his way through human life.
There are things that shake me all of the time. I remember several years ago when I found out my parents were separating. I was in my mid-thirties and yet it really threw me. I took a day off from work to kind of clear my head. I distinctly remember sitting at a park and watching my five-year-old daughter play while I processed the potential death of a marriage that was important to me (they eventually reconciled). Sure, I eventually was able to function again, but just the idea of my parents divorcing shut me down for a bit.
Father, thank you that you are a God who knows what it is to mourn. You are a God who understands the human condition. You understand what it is like to lose a loved one, suffer poverty, be tempted by power, have a friend betray you, etc. Help me as I experience the various trials that come my way. Help me to accomplish the work outside of the home that you have for me to accomplish. Help me to love my wife. Help me to parent my children. Help me to befriend the friendless. Help me to draw closer to you and then allow you to flow through me into my own life and to others around me.