Lake Brienz, Switzerland. Photo: Mark Burkholder
(Mark 6:31-34) Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” So they went away by themselves in a boat to a solitary place.
But many who saw them leaving recognized them and ran on foot from all the towns and got there ahead of them. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began teaching them many things.
(Matthew 14:15-20) 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.”
Jesus replied, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.”
“We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish,” they answered.
“Bring them here to me,” he said. 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. They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over.
Lord God, I have been coming and going a lot lately. Those around me are coming and going. I haven’t been still. I feel harried and rushed. Sometimes it seems as though I don’t have time for even the necessary things like eating and sleeping. I am hungry. Hungry for time with you. Hungry for a break. Hungry for deep connection.
That’s why I love your invitation to go with you to a quiet place. For there are many people coming for help and I need rest. At my core I want to be the kind of person, like Jesus, who attracts those who need healing and help. But at the same time, I don’t want too many. I want them on my time frame. I want them to not be too needy. And sometimes, I wish they’d just go away. Teach me compassion, Lord, when I see a need and remove my annoyance when it isn’t convenient. Show me when my best laid plans to rest need to be delayed.
When life is like this, I must be with you every moment. Teach me to rest on the journey—in the boat—as we travel, along the way. Whether the boat ride is long or short, I can rest, for true rest is not the location or the ambiance or the length of time (although these are helpful). True rest is YOU, abiding in you. Even though there are times I don’t get the quiet place that I envision, You still invite me to rest and I can climb in the boat with you.
Hungry people come to me, and I don’t know what to do. I want to send them to someone else because I am afraid I cannot help or I am inadequate or ill qualified. But you tell me to give them something to eat. You take my few loaves and fishes and you multiple my abilities so that I can help others. I give you myself, Lord so that you can feed others through me.