You Have a Story

(Matthew 14:14-22, Mark 6:30-45, Luke 9:10-17, John 6:1-17)

“I didn’t even know I had a story!”

And he didn’t.

Until he began preparing for tonight . . .

We’ve both been invited to give our testimonies.

He’s a young dad, and that’s really all I know about him, but I’m interested.

He’s first up to bat.

At some point in his testimony though, probably around the time he becomes pretty emotional about all that Jesus has done in his life, my interest shifts to regret.

I should have gone first.

His is a tough act to follow.

Not that it’s a testimony competition, but still . . .

Anyway, as he slides back into the pew I whisper, “Wow! What a story!”

To which he replies, “I didn’t even know I had a story!”

I jot down his words and tuck them away in my journal.

They feel important. 

But I’m not sure why.

Until weeks later when I open to the miracle of the multiplication of fishes and loaves.

Such a familiar story.

Except for the parts that are just about jumping off the page for me.

The parts where regular people realize they have a story.

Mark sets the scene . . .

The disciples, sent out by Jesus into the surrounding villages to preach and heal, have returned.

Totally jazzed by all that God has done in and around them.

They gathered around Jesus and told him all they had done and taught.

(Mark 6:30 EXB)

Told him all . . .

Can you feel their eagerness to recognize and discuss every detail?

Exclaiming, interrupting, laughing, weeping . . .

Smothering Jesus in a cacophony of stories, emotions, exuberance. 

And wonder.

Later, that very same day, a crowd shows up.

Five thousand souls hungry for teaching and healings and, by late afternoon, supper. 

You know this part of the story . . .

So skipping to the end, Jesus reminds the crowd to recycle their paper products and clean up the mess they’ve made.

Not really.

Instead, He turns to His disciples.

“Now gather the leftovers.”

(John 6:12 NLT)

When the disciples recover the leftovers, they have 12 baskets full.

(Luke 9:17 VOICE)

One basket per disciple.

To have and to hold.

Personally. 

But not for long.

Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side.

(Matthew 14:22 ESV)

In their hurry to leave, I imagine the baskets may have been left behind.

But not their stories.

I suspect they’ve barely pulled away from shore before they’re interrupting each other in eagerness to tell their stories.

All they saw and heard and felt that afternoon. 

Echoes of their exuberance bounce across the waters, up into the night sky, and back into the boat.

Perhaps this is one of the reasons Jesus urges them into that boat straight away.

Before they have a chance to forget a single detail of the Holy Spirit moving in and around them.

To provide a space and time to recognize they have a story to tell.

And to tell it.

I love how God provided a similar opportunity for that young dad.

To recognize his story.

Where he’s experienced the Holy Spirit moving in and around him.

And to tell it.

With exuberance.

And emotion. 

And wonder.

What is your story?

You have one . . .

See you in a couple weeks.

Love,