I have a precious friend who has a tendency to surprise me. I never know when she might magically appear with a special treasure. I am periodically caught off guard by a funny text, a silly gif or a photo with a snarky comment. She is one of those people who delights in delighting others. I've been gifted cupcakes, surprise drives for coffee, and minion paraphernalia. Whenever she appears on my front porch she is decked out in smiles and giggles. Her life is by no means simple or easy. She deals with hard things Every. Single. Day. And she continues to view life as a prize that holds hidden riches waiting to be discovered. I love that about her.
I like surprises. I love it when my husband comes home from work with a bouquet of flowers. I love it when my daughter texts me a funny meme that made her think of me. I love crossing paths with random friends that I haven't seen in a while when I'm running errands. I love it when my son shows up with food from his favorite Mexican restaurant and shares their amazing guacamole with me.
Have you ever experienced an "A-ha!" moment when reading a really familiar Bible Story? Have you ever read a passage of scripture and thought, "How have I not noticed that before?" Can you recall a moment when God showed up and you realized He sees you and knows exactly what you are feeling in the middle of the circumstance you are living? It bowls me over every time God surprises me in such a way.
I recently read the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand. I admit, when I began reading the passage in Matthew 14, I didn't realize that was the story I was getting into. I suspect I normally read the story from the book of John (chapter 6:1-15). There seem to be more details that help one see a picture of the crowd, the disciples, and the boy with his lunch in the gospel of John. The story in Matthew begins with verse 13, "When Jesus heard about it, he withdrew from there by boat to a remote place to be alone. When the crowds heard this, they followed him on foot from the towns." (CSB) I glanced at the preceding verses and realized Jesus had just heard about the beheading of John the Baptist. We've all been there. We've all had that moment when we are hurting and we just want to be alone. The idea of dealing with others is just too hard; our emotions are still so raw. We aren't ready to express what our soul is wrestling with to others or add their feelings and opinions into our grief. Jesus was faced with one of those moments when he didn't seem able to escape.
I want to believe there were some in the crowd who wanted to show Jesus their support as he grieved. I hope there was those who wanted to make sure he was okay. I'm sure there were those who wanted to see his suffering. They weren't Jesus fans, and they perhaps got some weird pleasure out of the possibility of seeing his hurt. And I'm convinced there were many who were completely unaware; they just wanted what they wanted. They were more interested in Jesus as a miracle worker to fix their situation than they were in Jesus the man, Jesus the prophet, or Jesus the Son of God. I suppose it doesn't make too much difference about the composition of the crowd. The truth is there was a crowd of people invading Jesus' space just when he wanted to be alone. That resonated with me. I recognize that feeling all too well.
Matthew 14:14 says that when Jesus saw the crowd, he "had compassion on them, and healed their sick." (CSB) One would think I wouldn't be surprised by this action of Jesus, and yet I was. It was hard for me to get beyond how he must have been hurting over the loss of John. John the Baptist was his cousin, his friend, his co-worker in the Kingdom. Plus John was his loyal servant, the one who came before Him to announce His arrival, the one who baptized Him even though he claimed to be unfit to tie Jesus' sandals. Jesus, son of God, God himself incarnate, was grieving over the treatment of his beloved child. In the middle of his anguish, he was faced with a crowd of hurting people asking him to step up to the plate and do something for each of them.
As the wife of a pastor, I've had those moments in time when I've had to set aside my feelings, my exhaustion, my plans and adapt to what is needed by another in that moment. I get the idea that we are to serve and be available to what God asks of us. And I admit I've done necessary tasks with as much kindness as I have humanly been able to muster, but I've served with reservation. I too often have had the clock ticking in the back of my mind and I've been ready to step away as soon as the moment presents itself. I don't want to tell you the truth that I enter those situations with a mixture of wanting to serve and express Christ's love while I'm also looking for a way to get back to tending to the wounds in my own spirit.
God surprised me with Jesus' willingness to so completely set Himself aside. Jesus didn't say, "Thanks for coming. I need a little time alone, so can we meet up later?" Jesus didn't kindly, but firmly turn them all away. Jesus didn't sit around and commiserate with them over how life was hard, allowing them to share their hurt while looking for an opportunity to share his hurt with them. Jesus didn't let his personal hurt stop him from meeting them in the middle of their hurt. Jesus had compassion on them. I know He had complete and utter compassion because he acted on that compassion by healing their sick. And then, after being with them all day, he sat them down and fed them. Jesus went beyond what they initially asked for and gave them more. Even though he himself was hurting and grieving.
In the book Double Blessing, author Mark Batterson says, "Blessing is God's default setting -- His first and foremost reflex." Jesus fell back to His default setting; He had compassion and blessed the crowd. And He blessed me as well. I generally am quick to identify a blessing as being spoiled, being surprised like my friend surprises me. As I pondered over the story, I saw myself in the crowd. My heart ached because I wanted to see myself in the person of Jesus. But I didn't. I recognized how I too often am too concerned with me and not with the mission of Christ. In His wisdom, and with kindness and grace, God blessed me when He posed some tough questions to my heart: Do I trust Him enough to provide the time and space I think I need to be rejuvenated when I am hurting or feel depleted? Do I believe God will bless me with what I truly need even if it looks differently than I anticipate? Am I willing to allow God's Spirit to reschedule my time even if it means feeling stretched beyond what I believe I can handle? Am I willing to follow God's leading in complete obedience with a Christ-like attitude of compassion, kindness and servanthood?
God asked Jesus to live out compassion on a tough day. Philippians 2:4 and 5 says, "Everyone should look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others. Adopt the same attitude as that of Christ Jesus." (CSB) God asks nothing different of me, or you. And blessing is God's default setting. If Jesus blessed the needy, hungering crowd in the midst of his heartache and grief, why would He not bless you or me as we live in obedience to His promptings? He is a good Father, a good God. Psalms 84:11 and 12 says "… he does not withhold the good from those who live with integrity. Happy is the person who trusts in you, Lord of Armies!" (CSB)
God wants to bless us. God wants us to know how deeply He loves us. God is desperate for us to grasp that He hurts when our lives are hard and that we can trust Him. God wants us to anchor our lives on the truth that living out His mission, even when we are experiencing heartache, opens the door for us to have purpose and be blessed more than we can imagine.
God surprises are the best; they come wrapped in blessing.
