With What You Have - Hospitality with What You Have

“When Jesus looked out and saw that a large crowd had arrived, he said to Philip, ‘Where can we buy bread to feed these people?’ He said this to stretch Philip’s faith. He already knew what he was going to do.” John 6:5-6, MSG

I finally saw this part: “He already knew what he was going to do.”

The bread and fish they had wasn’t enough. And Jesus knew it. The people were coming. And Jesus saw them. Philip took a tally of their resources and they fell so far short on supplies, I’m guessing it seemed not even worth calling out: lunch for a few, not thousands. But still Philip tells Jesus what they have and draws attention to what isn’t going to be enough.

None of us, though, have “enough.” We never will. To imagine we do would be to believe we are the Beginning and the End. So the temptation might be to throw up our hands at our limited resources or inadequate capacity and say if it’s not going to be enough, maybe it’s not even worth giving what we do have.

I just returned home from a correctional facility visit. I was with a group of women who went with music instruments, prayer experience supplies, cartful’s of food to create a feast for the women who lived there. Everything had been approved by the facility until we got to the doors and then one thing was refused after another. One volunteer refused after another. In the end, only a handful of us were allowed to enter the facility, no supplies or food, no Plan B other than hope the rest of our team and all our carts and coolers would eventually get the green light to join us.

I was devastated. We had a full day planned for the women, an itinerary mapped out minute by minute, so to be without resources and half of our team was disorienting. We didn’t have our main speaker, our worship leader. Now it was just seven women in a room with 100 guests and nothing in our hands, nothing to share or give. Not even bread. The women were hungry because they had skipped cafeteria breakfast to come to ours. They were anticipating an entire day of promise.

I wanted to can it. Postpone it. Avoid the dissatisfaction, the embarrassment, the awkward attempts in front of strangers.

But there were two women on our team who didn’t seem bothered by “what we had.” They jumped in front of our 100 guests and started singing, spontaneously praying, speaking off the cuff. I was hanging off on stage left fretting like Philip trying to pull together a new plan; but those two women remembered Jesus who already knew what he was going to do. He takes care of people with what is available, and multiplies it.

What if we start and stay right here a minute: We don’t need to have “enough.” We can take care of people with whatever we do have. We can use our voices to speak compassion. We can use our hands to help carry loads. Our arms to hold on and hug. Our ears to listen and empathize. Our natural creativity to turn whatever space we’re occupying into a haven for someone else—even if it’s not the haven we first imagined.

We didn’t have the day we planned at the correctional facility. But we gave what we had and still ended up feasting, connecting the dots, and turning an old gymnasium into a dance party. Our faith was stretched and it was uncomfortable. But Jesus uses all things—even women who want to give up. And the Holy Spirit knows how to fill every gap we leave open.

Try these today or tomorrow:

• Invite a few people to join you for a simple outdoor dinner. Use what you have to set a table: leftovers, an assortment of glassware, handmade name cards, laughter.
• Give something to someone who needs it.
• Ask Jesus to multiply what you’ve given, even if you don’t get to witness the results.