Nothing Is Wasted

After everyone was full, Jesus told his disciples, “Now gather the leftovers, so that nothing is wasted.” John‬ ‭6‬:‭12‬ ‭NLT‬‬

A gathering of crumbs ushered my thoughts into a moment of decision. Nothing of life-or-death proportions, just a simple venture into the what-ifs and how-abouts that make up the choices before me. In this gathering of leftovers, I see an unbeknownst-to-me habit. How often do I gather crumbs as I contemplate? I wonder whether to press into them with my fork or my fingers. Today, the sound of conversations, clattering dishes, and music playing overhead remind me I’m in public, so my fork it is. The flavor is still present, evoking the memory of my first taste.

Nothing Is Wasted

My notes from Sunday’s sermon, the photos from today’s hike, and the warmth of my husband’s comforting words are all crumbs I press together in my journal to taste again. I write to remember those priceless moments.

Pastor Dunn’s words come alive again and I am reminded that we need to “evaluate our current position.” Some things are too big for us, and God allows us to recognize our need for Him.

As I hike, I notice breathtaking, awe-inspiring views of God. The mountains, wildflowers, and the sun rising in the morning sky reveal His glorious presence. His hand intentionally placed each item; there is no random occurrence in the Kingdom of God.

Right here and right now are moments worthy of praise:

1. A small coyote is watching the odd coming and going of humans on the various paths in the canyon.

2. The woman in spandex taking selfies, the one commanding her dog to stay,

3. and me taking pictures of wildflowers and stacks of rock formations.

I hike to clear my head, to hear from God, and to find myself on the trail. As I walk, my husband’s comforting words hug my spirit as I remember his declaration, “You are safe.” I’d had an unsettling encounter with an unhoused man over the weekend. Unlike the coyote sitting calmly in the canyon as I passed, this man had been highly agitated by my presence. He picked up a rock and turned to face me, releasing a torrent of filthy words and threats. I prayed as I turned to walk the other way to avoid direct contact with him.

Leftovers

Fighting through the emotions evoked by remembering that encounter, I look down again at the crumbs on my plate. Scone remnants give evidence of the end of my breakfast. My self-questioning from earlier circles back around, “How often do I gather crumbs as I contemplate?” These crumbs, my notes, pictures, and quotes, are items I gather to remember, process, learn, and grow. So, nothing is wasted. God can use all of it for His glory, in His time, and in His way.

*For those of you who prayer walk, ponder the words, ‘so nothing is wasted,’ and pray for Him to reach deep into your soul and gather up the lessons that can only come from encounters with Him.