Jive Monkey Gold: Enough Food?

I suck. It's "I" instead of "we" because I don't want to speak for you. But follow my story and see if you fit the bill.
I feel so inadequate. What am I doing? Late at night I look at the problems I face, compare them to the resources I have, and sigh. I'm supposed to fulfill the Great Commission? I can't even help myself!
Do you ever end up short on cash, while bills remain to be paid, charities remain to be helped, groceries, clothes, or textbooks remain to be bought?
Is the work piled on your desk, the dirty clothes piled in your laundry bin, and your "free time" pledged away for weeks in advance? Friends going through every catastrophe from bad dating experiences to the deaths of loved ones? Family members feeling neglected? Coworkers fighting depression? Fellow students losing focus? Do they all wish someone could fix it?
Can you fix it?
Okay, now I'll say it. You suck, too. And the thing is, you can't even encourage yourself out of the duldrums, let alone give spiritual manna to the hungry on your doorstep, your voicemail, or your Yahoo! Then you go to church and you hear about all the needs, all the opportunities to serve, all the ministerial positions that may go vacant if you don't give ... what? Your time? You have none. Your cash? What cash? Your skills? You're a regular Napoleon Dynamite.
Can we find a solution? And can it be found in something so modest as a story?
And as long as we're going there, we might as well choose an unbelievable one. One with a point that's easy to miss. Because what do you do when you can't see a way out? You throw caution to the wind:

Mark 6:34-44 34When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began teaching them many things.
35By this time it was late in the day, so his disciples came to him. “This is a remote place,” they said, “and it's already very late. 36Send the people away so they can go to the surrounding countryside and villages and buy themselves something to eat.”
37But he answered, “You give them something to eat.”
They said to him, “That would take eight months of a man's wages! Are we to go and spend that much on bread and give it to them to eat?”
38“How many loaves do you have?” he asked. “Go and see.”
When they found out, they said, “Five–and two fish.”
39Then Jesus directed them to have all the people sit down in groups on the green grass. 40So they sat down in groups of hundreds and fifties. 41Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to his disciples to set before the people. He also divided the two fish among them all. 42They all ate and were satisfied, 43and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces of bread and fish. 44The number of the men who had eaten was five thousand.

We call it the story of the loaves and fishes. But Mark wants us to see the people, not the food.
The disciples know the score. They're in the hills and gulleys. "This is a lonely place and the hour is late. Let the hungry people fend for themselves in the villages." Reasonable.
Jesus has another idea. "You give them something to eat."
They're incredulous. "Sure Jesus. That'll take, what? Eight months wages? Do we look like we're made of money?"
I am so there. A needy world in front of me, and feelings of inadequacy within. So I whine to Jesus too. "Should I snap my fingers and voila! everyone's problems away, Jesus?" "Want me to cut myself into eight different pieces so there's enough of me to go around, Jesus?"
Christ doesn't send them out for supplies. He says, "Go see how many loaves you have." Ridiculous. What difference does it make? It won't be enough. And when the disciples come back, things seem even worse: "We have five loaves and two fish."
Okay, time for Jesus to take a reality check. And time for us (we who suck) to identify with the disciples. Here we sit, with our Wonderbread and our Gordon's fishsticks, facing a starving generation.
Jesus ignores the reality check because He is the reality. He tells the crowd to sit. He blesses the paltry lunch and divides the sandwiches like a good Jewish father. 10,000 eyes watch as His confused disciples begin to distribute.
We miss the point. "How did He do it?" we ask. We have no problem believing God created the entire universe, but we don't want to credit Him with the power to stretch a meal. Stretch it He does, and after everyone has loosened their belts and patted their bellies, there are twelve baskets of leftovers.
Mark's theme! The people are fed when Jesus blesses their meager resources. Paul understood. "I will all the more gladly boast of my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may rest upon me ... for when I am weak, then I am strong."
When we put our little loaves and fishes to work ... it works. The underfunded, understaffed mission keeps chugging. Your hurting friend finds your words to be apples of gold, though you felt helpless when delivering them. You join the chain of generations, countless Christians stretching back to that original happy meal, those original weak, inadequate disciples who fed the crowd with Christ's blessing.
The world is hungry again, and it's our turn.
Our kids, or those young enough to be, are hungry. Our parents, or those old enough to be, are hungry. Our friends, or those who should be, are hungry. Our brothers and sisters in Christ, or those who could be, are hungry.
Jesus knows, better than we do, that our resources are threadbare. But He has blessed them. He has blessed them!
The world is hungry again. And it's our turn.
Let's give them something to eat.