I've been slowly reading through Matthew (like reeaaallly slowly), and I came across something today I'd never realized.

We all know the story of Jesus feeding the 5 Thousand with a little boy's lunch, right? And it's no doubt a miracle to be marveled at. But this morning, I'm marveling at something else in the story.

I don't want to in any way make God in my own image.... but Jesus must have felt great pain, right? He was secure in His Father's love and no doubt that was the ultimate comfort, but he faced a great deal of painful things during His 33 years on earth as a man.

Matthew 14 starts off explaining the death of John the Baptist. When the news reached Jesus, it says "He withdrew from there in a boat to a desolate place by himself" (v 13). It's then that masses hear the news, and follow Him. When it begins to get late in the day, his disciples suggest Jesus send them away to go get food. I think I would have appreciated this suggestion. I would not be so gracious if I'd just heard of the brutal murder of my cousin, the one who lept in his mothers womb at my conception into the earth, the one who baptized me, and spent his life in sacrifice, 'preparing the way' for me. I'd have definitely got in a boat and gone away, alone. And if people came after.... huh.

But what does Jesus do? He feeds them.

He then dismisses them, and once again goes away alone. He heads up the mountain.

In fact, its later the same night that Peter walks on water.

Remarkable that two of the most memorable miracles were performed on a day when Jesus faced one of the greatest pains we know on earth- the loss of a close friend. Funny how we disqualify ourselves so often to pour out to others because we feel unready, empty, or broken. Okay, its not really funny... It's incredibly convicting. It's enough to break me even now, and make me long to do something as remarkable and loving as either of the two miracles Jesus did that day. It makes me want to commit to not push others away in my own pain, but even then, even on some day yet to come, when I feel the most wounded and empty, to give.

Aw, Lord, make me like You!