An Abundance of Leftovers
Every once in a while I will read a verse with a phrase I cannot get out of my head. A phrase that opens my eyes to something about the Lord that I had not thought about much before. This week that phrase is “leftovers.” If you’re a parent, this word is usually associated with groans from your children or possibly a hunt through the pantry to find some way to make the excess food taste new. For me, there’s also a feeling of relief when I realize I have leftovers, a break from meal planning and cooking. In Scripture, leftovers means the same thing: the extra food not eaten after a meal; which seems not particularly spiritual or helpful. I do not think that is true, though. In fact, for me, it touched the part of my heart where the things that are hard to believe about God live.
2 Chronicles 31:10 is the verse that sparked so many of my thoughts this week. King Hezekiah asked the people who lived in Jerusalem to begin to give a contribution to the priests and Levites and the people provided so much that they began storing the contributions of grain, wine, oil, and animals in large piles. Hezekiah asked the chief priest about these piles and he responded, “Since they began bringing the offering to the LORD’s temple, we eat and are satisfied and there is plenty left over because the LORD has blessed his people; this abundance is what is left over.” The priests ate enough to be satisfied and there were still leftovers–plenty of leftovers– an abundance of leftovers. God is not a god who gives us only what we need. He is the God who gives us what we need and then some more.
Ever since my husband died, this has been the truth about God that I question the most. I can agree that He gives enough, even that He satisfies. But the idea that God gives leftovers, and leftovers in abundance? That seems impossible to reconcile with my circumstances. The widow life, the single parent life, often feels like just getting by- and those are the good days. The harder days are filled with unexpected grief, renewed loneliness, or feeling like a chicken running around with its head cut off. There is too much to do all on my own, too many plates to keep spinning, too much to worry about, too many emotions to carry, for me to easily believe that God has given me more than enough– to believe that there is part of my life where I have what I need plus some leftover.
However, Scripture makes it clear that it is true and reconcilable. In Ruth 2, Boaz met Ruth and in verse 14 “offered her roasted grain. She ate and was satisfied and had some left over.” Boaz was a picture of Christ centuries before Jesus was born and so we recognize that in this moment he gives us a glimpse of who God is: a provider of more than enough. Then, in Matthew 14 we are told the well-known story of Jesus feeding the five thousand. A large crowd was surrounding Jesus and at dinnertime, he asked the disciples to serve the people food, but they only had five loaves and two fish. Jesus “broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples and the disciples gave them to the crowds. Everyone ate and was satisfied. They picked up twelve baskets full of leftover pieces.” Not just sufficient food, but leftover food. More than enough.
But what does this have to do with the rest of my life, with all the parts that have nothing to do with eating? In John 6:35 Jesus says, “I am the bread of life…No one who comes to me will ever be hungry.” Our food, dear friends, is Jesus. He is our bread, and he offers himself to us not sufficiently, but abundantly. There are two truths from this reality that I don’t want us to miss. The first is the power and limitless-ness of our God. He has all that we need (and more) and he is able to provide it. There is nothing too big or too far or too deep for him to meet the need and surpass it. He is stronger than our loss, bigger than our fears, steadier than our confusion.
The second truth is that God has chosen to give. God could be great, powerful, and unlimited and still be distant. We could know these things about God without ever truly experiencing him intimately. But that’s not who our God is. Our God is a God who enters in and gives us Himself. He gives so much that Jesus took human form and walked among us. The food he provides isn’t good circumstances or fulfilled dreams. It isn’t money or marriage or children. It’s himself. He is the bread of life who invites us to take and eat.
Having the full meal plus leftovers of God means having an abundance of who He is. He is the Prince of Peace so we have peace in plenty. He is the Lord of Armies so we have ample strength to persevere. He is the Everlasting Father so we have lavish love and care. He is the Alpha and the Omega so we have perfect security in our future. He is the Creator so we are wholly known and understood. He is the King of Kings so we have authority that is bounteously trustworthy.
He is Immanuel so we have a God who is with us.
And here’s the thing about leftovers: there are more than we need so we have plenty to share. The only reason I have anything left to give to my daughters, to my friends, to my church is because I have more than I need. I often get some version of the question, “How do you do it?” Over the last three years since my husband died, I have realized that I don’t do it. There is nothing in my own strength that gets me through day after day of loss and single parenting. I cannot manifest joy or laughter or hope, but most days I have them anyway. This is the work of a Triune God who loves me not just enough but in abundance. He loves me so much that through his Spirit, I have plenty and I can share the extra. I can be silly with my children, share Scripture with my friends, sing truth with my church family. I can stand alongside those who doubt and understand those who suffer. Not because I am capable, but because of a God whose presence is so great, I have an abundance leftover.
Faithfully,