Sabbath Devotional :: Loaves and (Gold)Fishes

Abbie is officially a nursery graduate! I could gush for a good long while about how my last baby is growing up way too fast, but I want to take a little different direction with this post today.
For the last 28 months, when I’ve dropped Abbie off at nursery, probably half of the time she has been the ONLY child there. Our ward is small and just doesn’t have very many kids her age. So for over two years, two wonderful nursery workers were often tasked with caring for a single child. My child.
Did I sometimes feel a twinge of guilt knowing that two adults were missing out on class time and meaningful interaction simply so I could have an hour of peace? Yes indeed. Do I think I might have ended up in the loony bin if the nursery had not been available? Quite possibly. Having a husband in the bishopric means lots of Sunday meetings, not having any help getting four kids ready for church, and then sitting alone in the pews each week. I try not to complain too much, but I won’t mince words: it’s hard. I have really needed that second hour of church to fill my cup.

So today when we had a lesson about Jesus feeding the 5000, I couldn’t help but think of all the good people who, like the young lad, offer their proverbial loaves and fishes. They may think that their sacrifice won’t amount to much, that their contribution couldn’t possibly make a significant difference, but they do it anyway.

Maybe some weeks our nursery leaders questioned why they were there. Maybe they felt like their calling didn’t matter. Or, maybe they served happily. Maybe they enjoyed the toys and stories and snacks just as much as the kids. I don’t know.

But I do know they showed up every week and that their offering filled me at a time when I really needed it. It might not be as miraculous as feeding the 5000, but I believe that just as with the lad’s loaves and fishes, the Lord consecrates and expands our seemingly insignificant offerings. And being part of a community that puts into practice that kind of faith feels like a miracle to me.