When life gets messy, at times it can feel like our Messiah has gone missing. That’s exactly the kind of situation we find the disciples in as we read Mark 6. Right after the feeding of the five thousand, they got in a boat, and strong winds caused the water to get very rough. The disciples were straining at the oars as the realities of life beat against them.
Although she assured me she liked it in the home in which she now resided, I could see it. I saw it in the way tears welled up as we visited. I saw it in her faraway look as she talked about the past. This dear old friend grieved the passing of the years. She missed the house she called home for so long. She missed attending church. She missed hanging with family and friends. She missed her independence.
As I rushed out the door, I slung my purse over my shoulder with my phone tucked under my chin, struggling to pull the sleeve of my jacket over my arm. I was running late, again, throwing up a quick prayer to God that He would part the Red Sea of traffic so I might still make my class on time.
Think about the last time you had a hard day. Picture that you come home, just wanting the day to end and to go to sleep, sulking the night away. When you step through the door, your dog comes racing around the corner to see you and members of your family come to soothe you.
You may have noticed that the number of families that have regular mealtimes together is in decline. Some estimates say that in the past twenty years, the frequency of family dinners has dropped 33 percent. The Atlantic reported that “the average American eats one in every five meals in the car, one in four Americans eats at least one fast food meal every single day, and the majority of American families report eating a single meal together less than five days a week.” 1