Life in Abundance

The account of Jesus walking on the water to save his disciples is one of the most incomprehensible—and wonderful—miracles recorded in the New Testament. Having just finished teaching and ministering to the people, the Savior told his Apostles to board a ship and cross the Sea of Galilee while He dispersed the crowd. (Mark 6:45.) Christ then went to a mountain to pray, where He saw them “toiling in rowing, for the wind was contrary to them.” (Mark 6:47-48.) It must have been a difficult night, because the disciples were still at it by the fourth watch—somewhere between 3:00 to 6:00 in the morning—when the Savior came unto them, “walking upon the sea.” (Mark 6:48.) Unsurprisingly, the disciples were astonished and “troubled” by what they saw. Thinking they had seen a ghost, they all cried out. (Mark 6:49-50.) Lovingly, the Savior “immediately” talked with them, telling them: “Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid.” (Mark 6:50.) He joined them in the ship, calmed the winds, and saw them safely to the other side. (Mark 6:51.) Describing the disciples’ feelings at this point, Mark records that “they were sore amazed in themselves beyond measure, and wondered, for they considered not the miracle of the loaves.” (Mark 6:51-52.)

Just a few hours earlier, while Jesus was teaching the multitude, the disciples had faced a different problem. Five thousand men, along with their families, had followed the Lord to a “desert place” to hear Him teach. (Mark 6:35, 44.) The day was now “far spent,” and, knowing that they didn’t have enough food or money to feed such a group, the disciples advised the Lord to send the people to their homes for the evening. (Mark 6:35-37.) Instead of sending the people away, Jesus had compassion upon them and asked the disciples to gather food and organize the people in companies on the grass. (Mark 6:38-40.) The disciples brought Him what little they had—just five small loaves and two fishes—and Jesus took the food, blessed and broke it, and gave it to the multitude. (Mark 6:41.) Not only was everyone able to eat, they were able to eat their fill, with 12 baskets of food to spare. (Mark 6:42-43.)

I wonder what the disciples, toiling at their oars in the middle of a windy, difficult night, should have considered about this miracle as they saw a dim figure walking toward them in the night. As I consider the miracle of the loaves, with the benefit of retrospect the disciples did not have, I am reminded of similar situations both earlier and later in the Lord’s ministry where He “manifested forth his glory” to satisfy others’ scarcity with his abundance. (See John 2:11.) In Cana at the start of His ministry, when Mary was faced with a lack of wine at the wedding feast, Jesus satisfied her soul in drought (see Isaiah 58:11), transforming between 130-195 gallons of water into some of the finest wine the ruler of the feast had ever tasted. (John 2:1-11.) In Jerusalem at the end of His ministry, when the Apostles faced the dawning realization of impending separation from the Lord, Jesus transformed bread and wine into a beautiful remembrance of His life, His love, and His coming sacrifice for them—and all of us. (See JST Mark 14:20-25.) Perhaps the Lord’s greatest transformative miracle was performed on the Apostles themselves. These men, who seemed “unlearned and ignorant” to the world (see Acts 4:13), were given power by the Savior “to become the sons of God” (see John 1:12) and to eloquently and powerfully preach his gospel to “all nations” (see Matthew 28:20), including powerful civic (see Acts 24-26) and religious (see Acts 4:5-21) leaders of the day.

At the heart of this pattern that runs throughout the Savior’s mortal and post-mortal ministry is the reality that Christ is the only true source of lasting abundance in this life and in eternity. As we come to Him with our needs—whatever our needs—He will pour out blessings without measure, until our cup runneth over (Psalms 23:5) and there is not room enough to receive it. (Malachi 3:10.) As we come to Him in our weakness, he will make us strong. (2 Cor. 12:9-10; Ether 12:27.) Those blessings may not come immediately—the disciples toiled a possible 9-12 hours at sea before Jesus came to them. (From even (6 pm) to the fourth watch (3-6 am), see Mark 6:47-48.) And they may not come without us feeling our weakness and our need—sometimes acutely. Miraculous wine was not provided until the guests demanded of Mary wine that was not there (see John 2:3), and Paul’s “thorn in the flesh” was overcome rather than removed. (see 2 Cor. 12:7-9.) Nonetheless, whether soon or late, “men and women who turn their lives over to God will discover that He can make a lot more out of their lives than they can. He will deepen their joys, expand their vision, quicken their minds, strengthen their muscles, lift their spirits, multiply their blessings, increase their opportunities, comfort their souls, raise up friends, and pour out peace.” (Ezra Taft Benson, Jesus Christ—Gifts and Expectations.) Or, as Christ Himself said, “I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.” (John 10:10.)

Looking Back

The times I treasure most in life are times spent with loved ones. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, or if we’re doing anything at all, I’m content just knowing that those I love are close at hand—sitting in the same room or within easy reach down the hall or up the stairs. As a result, family gatherings on vacation, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and other special occasions are the hallmarks of every year.

This time last year was one of those treasured times. I had nearly two months between the end of one job and the start of the next, entirely at my disposal. We spent the first week moving across the state to where my new job was located. Our second child was born soon after, and one peaceful, unhurried day followed another as our family quickly slipped into a happy, idyllic routine. Of course, although the days passed slowly, the weeks and months passed quickly, and before too long my first day of work at my new job arrived. One of the hardest things I’ve done was to say goodbye to my 2-year-old son that day, understanding—as I know he couldn’t—that I was closing the door on a sweet chapter of life that will never return. During that slow day of orientation, with too much time to get lost in my thoughts, nostalgia for the days gone by welled up inside me like a physical ache. I longed to go back in time to relive those days with my little family, although of course, that was impossible. As the days passed, that ache subsided and I moved forward into a new job and a new routine.

I was reminded of those days again this week as I stepped back into the routine of work after a wonderful week last week spent gathering with family to celebrate the wedding of my youngest brother and the births of three little ones born during the last few months. For a few precious days, my entire family was gathered together in easy reach in the place of my birth and my college—a place that feels like a second home. The familiar ache came in stages this time—saying goodbye in the morning as family (and we) scattered one by one back to their homes or driving away in the afternoon from a place where memories form so thickly as to become almost tangible. I thought I had handled things pretty well as we got back home late that night, but I was in for one last surprise. Heading out the door the next morning, I was hit with a wave of longing so strong that I felt dizzy as I shut the door on my sleeping family. I took a deep breath, kept walking to the car, and gradually faded back into my routine.

Reflecting on my love of family and my longing for our times together, I am reminded of one of the Lord’s “hard sayings” (see John 6:60):

Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter in law against her mother in law. And a man’s foes shall be they of his own household. (Matthew 10:34-36.)

As if that weren’t tough enough, He continues:

He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And he that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me. (Matthew 10:37-38.)

For me, that last part is the key. As dear as family relationships can be, if they get in the way of our love for and devotion to the Savior, then our priorities have been misplaced. Or as Jesus put it on another occasion, “No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.” (Luke 9:62.)

Thankfully, when we choose to follow Christ and take up our cross, we suffer no real loss. Instead, “he that loseth his life for [Christ’s] sake shall find it.” (Matthew 10:39.) That life found in Christ is rich and abundant, just as he said it would be. (See John 10:10.) This includes our life with treasured relations. I read once that, for ancient Hebrews, numbers and repetition are a way of expressing qualitative as well as quantitative reality. Viewed in this light, the Savior’s promise of receiving “an hundredfold” of “brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife or children,” both “now in this life” and “in the world to come” (see Matthew 19:29; Mark 10:30) takes on new meaning. The promise of rich relationships with family now and through eternity properly turns our focus—and our longing—toward Him and His kingdom, making the treasures of this world—even the really precious ones—pale in comparison with His abundance.