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The 1961 Pontiac was sharp, clean, and candy apple red. The engine was a 389 with a four-barrel carburetor. The interior of the vehicle was as stylish as the exterior. Cars had no plastic parts to speak of back then. The inside door panels were a mix of carpet, vinyl, and chrome. The dash board was aesthetically artistic in its design. When the doors were opened, colored courtesy lights lit several areas. This was my dream machine. This vehicle took my wife and me through our dating days, college years, and seminary semesters. This classic of cars was durable and dependable, day after day, year after year, mile after mile, oil change after oil change, and it ran like the wind.

Then, suddenly, at 120,000 miles, something went wrong. An engine noise surfaced. A loss of power was experienced. The engine heads and valves needed replaced. We couldn't afford another car. I didn't want to part with this one.

My father-in-law, who was a backyard mechanic of sorts, and I decided to make the repairs ourselves. We worked on it in the evenings when I had a week's vacation.

Having torn down the engine and reached the valves, I could sense my father-in-law was puzzled. His usual confidence and quick, unquestioned hands seemed to be hesitant. He admitted he wasn't sure about how to remove the valves from the engine block.

While pondering the situation, a friend dropped by whom I hadn't seen in over a year. Realizing our predicament, he made the comment that what we needed was a valve puller. This friend saw our dilemma. He, too, was a backyard mechanic. He had been through a repair like this earlier in his life and knew what could be done to meet the need. He offered his resource, an idea. Using pencil and paper, he drew a rough sketch of what a valve puller looked like.

My father-in-law, the genius he was, took the diagram, added his creativity, and with scraps of metal and a welding machine fashioned a homemade device. Half an hour later we were pulling valves.

Did you ever notice how life has a way of placing before us unintended obstacles? Things we don't count on. Difficult, disrupting circumstances that challenge not only ourselves, but also our very faithfulness to Christ and to God's work. Sometimes these situations, like the valves, seem impossible and without solution. We pray diligently but often wonder if our prayers are heard. And yet, there are those among us who, like my friend, are able to see something we haven't seen. These persons, with their knowledge and insight, rise to the occasion. They help us meet the complicated challenges life, at times, brings our way.

This is what occurred in the feeding of the 5,000. Having crossed the Sea of Galilee, Jesus and his disciples settled themselves on a mountain some distance from the water's edge. Seeking long-needed rest from the weary demands of his teaching and healing ministry, Jesus looked up and saw yet another multitude of people coming towards them. These persons were seeking Jesus, knowing that he could satisfy their spiritual hungers and thirsts. Since it was close to meal time, Jesus also saw in these persons their need for physical food.

The scene is set. We find Jesus and his disciples facing one of life's unintended obstacles and disrupting circumstances. A situation on which they hadn't counted had presented itself. Here was another dilemma at a time they were in need of rest. However, the needs of the people and the world were so great, and Jesus and his disciples found themselves facing another physical situation with spiritual implications. How could Jesus turn the people away? How could our Lord say no? He couldn't. But, the more important question was: How could this multitude of people be fed? Physically fed? Spiritually nurtured for life? There were no towns or villages nearby. Fast food restaurants didn't exist and there were no pizzerias that delivered.

Jesus directed a question to Philip about meeting these people's needs. The question came as a test of problem-solving. Jesus knew that Philip was originally from the area. He believed Philip would know where enough food could be obtained to feed the crowd.

Another surprise! Philip was of no help. He quickly told Jesus that the crowd was just too large. There was not enough money to buy even a small amount of food. The problem was most difficult. The situation was unexpected and Philip chose not to get involved.

We can't help but think that Philip represents us at times. Perhaps Philip believed the people should have thought about food before chasing after Jesus miles from any town. Philip is that part in us that gives up before even trying. Philip is that part in us that dwells upon the negatives and emphasizes the attitudes of apathy. Philip is that person in each of us who says the hungry have only themselves to blame.

But we must say, "Wait a minute," to the world's Philips. Doesn't God give us a mission and a ministry to address human need, to meet problems, to solve situations? Like my father-in-law and me standing and staring at those engine valves, sometimes we are baffled at what to do next. Sometimes, like Philip, we respond that the task is too great and our resources too small. We conclude it can't be done. We regret we got ourselves into the situation in the first place. So we ignore the challenge. We run from the challenge. We simply refuse to see the challenge through. We give up before we begin.

But then, there are the Andrews of this world. Andrew saw the crowd approaching. Overhearing Christ's question, Andrew was like my friend who dropped by the garage that day. The dilemma, the problem, the situation stares us squarely in the face. Although solving a problem appears impossible, problems intrigue the world's Andrews, just like the valves waiting to be pulled intrigued my friend. Andrew was thinking. Andrew was standing next to Jesus in our story and beginning to imagine the possibilities. Andrew was looking to address the concern and meet the need to which Jesus had called his disciples' attention.

Andrew, like my friend, spoke up. Andrew said, in so many words, "There's a lad here with five barley loaves and two fish. They aren't much but they're something."

Thank God for the world's Andrews!

Perhaps. Just perhaps. Awe! Yes! Andrew saw in that boy and his sack lunch a resource. Andrew did something else, which Philip didn't. Andrew put his faith and his trust in Jesus. Friends, if God's work is to take place, we as Christ's disciples must put our resources and trust into the hands of Christ.

When we are willing and when we choose to do these things, then the miracles happen. Yes! Miracles happen even today. Miracles like pulling valves within minutes after hearing my friend describe and roughly sketch a valve puller. Miracles like Jesus and his disciples pushing fish to feed the multitude of 5,000 plus within minutes of Andrew showing his Lord the lad with the sack lunch.

How deeply our world, our nation, our states, our cities, our neighborhoods and, yes, our churches are in need of having Andrews in their midst. If we are to be about God's work, if we are to do God's work, Jesus needs each of us to be people with vision, the vision to see that even the smallest resource can bring about the greatest miracle. What is your vision regarding yourself, others, the future, your church?

Think about this lad with the sack lunch. He must have seemed so small, so insignificant, in the crowd of over 5,000 adults. Yet Andrew spotted him. The sack lunch must have first appeared as inconsequential, of no real use. However, placed in the hands of Christ, even the smallest amounts of what the lad had to offer effectively met life's greatest needs. The same can be true of what you have in your hands. Entrusted to Christ there's no telling what miracles are before us.

So often the answers we look for to solve life's difficulties are right in our midst. All we need are the eyes of faith like Andrew displayed. All we need is the willingness to share what we have in our hands with the hands of Christ. As the story shows, Christ has the power to take what we have and make it enough to meet our needs and the needs of others beyond the wildest of dreams. May the power of the living Christ grant clarity to our lives by giving us the eyes of faith, as he did Andrew, so that our needs may be met and we, as well, can help meet the needs of others.