Desires

“After all that God has given me, I regret not having had more desires!” (Saint Bernard).

The Multiplication of Loaves and Fishes (Ambrosius Francken)

When I was a little girl, my mother told me a story that she had been told about her maternal aunt – my Grandmother’s sister (my great-aunt)…

Where she lived in Lebanon was very very poor.  She married a man who did not treat her very well and she had many children and often her husband would not give her enough money to buy food for the children – either because he did not have the money or because he had wasted it on other things.  One day, this aunt had only a little flour and yeast left in her cupboard.  It was no more than a small cup.  There was no other food for her family that day.  She was very afraid because it was not enough food for her family, and still, she kneaded the flour and yeast into a dough and made the sign of the cross over the top of the dough, offering a prayer asking God to allow this to be enough food for her family.  She covered the dough as she usually did and waited for it to rise – as usual.  When she returned to the bowl a few hours later, she saw – to her surprise – that the dough had risen so much that it had overflowed the bowl and there was not enough dough to last her many days – feeding her family over many days…

There was no investigation into the legitimacy of this miracle by the Church.  There was no scientific proof of anything that happened.  Perhaps something happened with the yeast that day and it could all be explained by simple science?  But, my great-aunt was not an educated woman – she was a desperate one.  She was not praying for a miracle that would prove that God existed – she was praying for a miracle that would save her family from hunger.

Her desire for that miracle was very simple – she had a need and her only recourse was to God Himself…

That story has been told through the generations of my family for many decades – long after this great-aunt has died, and certainly long after my children have forgotten her name.

And I call this one a miracle…  Because though the name of my great-aunt might be forgotten, God providing for her in her desire is not…  And there is a sort of miracle even in that.

I have been reflecting on the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and the fish...

“In those days, when again a great crowd had gathered, and they had nothing to eat, he called his disciples to him, and said to them, ‘I have compassion on the crowd, because they have been with me now three days, and have nothing to eat; and if I send them away hungry to their homes, they will faint on the way; and some of them have come a long way.’ And his disciples answered him, ‘How can one feed these men with bread here in the desert?’ And he asked them, ‘How many loaves have you?’ They said, ‘Seven.’ And he commanded the crowd to sit down on the ground; and he took the seven loaves, and having given thanks he broke them and gave them to his disciples to set before the people; and they set them before the crowd. And they had a few small fish; and having blessed them, he commanded that these also should be set before them. And they ate, and were satisfied; and they took up the broken pieces left over, seven baskets full. And there were about four thousand people. And he sent them away; and immediately he got into the boat with his disciples, and went to the district of Dalmanutha.” (Mark 8:1-10).

It is the same sort of thing…  Things seemed impossibly hard and when that happened Christ asked the disciples to provide what they had.  And that is exactly what they did.  They – like my great-aunt – collected everything that they had and handed it over to God wrapped in their desires…  God took care of the rest.  Saint Bernard said – at the end of his life – “After all that God has given me, I regret not having had more desires!”

And I have been thinking about that today – for it seems to me that during my life I have had many bowls of risen dough and never once though much of it…

For with prayer, I stand on Holy Ground where everything is clear. Here. At the Foot of the Cross.