Today has been much better than yesterday. I’m still behind on my work, still 15 lbs over my target weight, and the little boy is still as stubborn as ever. Outwardly, nothing in particular has changed. The realities of my life remain; however, those tribulations just show that if God can use me in the midst of my mess, He can use you no matter where you are on this pilgrimage of life.
This afternoon, as I faced the afternoon onslaught of the email inbox, two unassuming messages patiently waited for my attention. One was from Ms. J, a link to a sermon by Bishop TD Jakes of The Potter’s House that was featured on Oprah’s Next Chapter. The other was an invitation to a conference I had discussed attending at length with my friend Mrs. K last year, though we soon realized that the costs far exceeded our budgets.
I highly recommend blocking off some time to watch Bishop Jakes’ sermon. Ms. J has discussed her takeaways from the sermon on her blog, and because mine mirror hers very closely, I’ll just ask that you read her posts. However, as many times as I’ve read and heard sermons about the miracle of feeding the multitudes with two fish and five loaves of bread (Mark 6:43-52), I missed something. When they were making the count, the five thousand referred only to the men, not the women or children. Yet, when the disciples told Jesus that the people were hungry, he did not use the lunch of one of these “counted” men — he used the lunchbag of a boy. He used someone who even the writers of the Bible did not include in their count. That’s how Jesus works. He doesn’t necessarily use the people who are deemed the best or the most important. He uses those who have been discounted, who are afterthoughts, but who are willing to trust Him with their little because of their faith that He can turn it into more than enough (after all, there were 12 basketfuls of leftovers). Sweetie Pies, this realization has changed me in a profound way. I can’t be the same now that this lives in me.
After watching the sermon, I opened up the email about the pitch conference and realized that I am ready to go. This year. I have a prepared spec script, title bible, and pitch for a television series. I know that if I can just get in front of the right people, someone will bite on this project. I’m prepared with my little lunchbag. Me, the same girl from yesterday who wrote about my coin jars, my stubborn kid, and my clunky words. I’m still that chick, not Shonda Rhimes, David E. Kelly or Alan Sorkin. Not a major player. Not a minor player. Not one of the counted. I just see that people are hungry, and I know that if I hand my lunchbag over to Jesus, He’ll make sure the multitudes are fed.