Who Provides the Loaves and Fishes? by Gini Walker

In the Gospel of Matthew, there are two stories about Jesus feeding two very large groups of people. The first was 5,000 with 5 little loaves and two fish, and the second account was not long after that with an almost identical miracle of 4,000 fed with 7 small loaves and two fish. It seems redundant to read these until we apply “pause and ponder.” My takeaway lesson? The disciples were quick to forget the power of Jesus to provide with their meager means, and we the readers are quick to forget the compassion of Jesus.

Today, with all the unrest in our unsettled world, I often forget Jesus’ compassion. Not only do I forget it, I also fail to see it. God revealed His all-seeing, all-knowing, and ever-present compassion through my humble prayer one sunny Saturday morning at a Little League baseball game. My prayer wasn’t for our team to win. It was for a young boy on our team who was struggling with life issues and especially with playing baseball. He had caught my attention and no matter where he was in the game, offensively or defensively, my eyes were on him. At one game he was struggling so much at his left-field position he was wiping tears away with his non-glove hand and then suddenly he started running for the fence to leave to the game. After a teammate’s reassurance, he came back and finished the inning. As a batter, he looked good — wide stance, bat ready and his size was probably a bit intimating to the opposing team’s pitcher. But he hadn’t hit the ball all season although he had walked. He had never had the thrill of crossing home plate and he batted last. He looked like he didn’t fit and he usually looked like he didn’t want to be there. And why was he? I thought to myself with a bit of anger. Was he being forced? My judging heart started building a case against his circumstances.

Then God’s providence entered the picture. At another game, sometime after this, I fell into conversation with one of our fans. It was a bit early before game time so our conversation wasn’t rushed. I didn’t know him so I asked, “And who are you connected with?” The name he gave me was the boy in this story. He was the dad, and he gave me a bit of background on his son. He was struggling in school and at home and dad was hoping baseball might help him. I needed no one there to shame me. I shamed myself with silent remorse and prayer for forgiveness for judging. This was definitely a time I was glad my thoughts could not be read by another. It was bad enough that my Lord Jesus knew.

When the game started, his dad and I went our separate ways to find our spot in the stands. Later in the game, I was fatigued from sitting and got up to stand and walk a bit. I ended up at the fence behind home plate, just as this young boy stepped up to the plate. Suddenly it felt like there was no one there but the pitcher, batter, umpire, me, and God. I closed my eyes and silently said, “Abba Father, please let him get a hit.” WHAM!! And the fans and teammates went crazy. Not only did he get a hit, but he also hit the ball to the fence, further than any other player.

And off he went to second base. Another teammate hit the ball and drove him in and he got to cross home plate! When the game was over, his team gathered for their post-game chat with coaches. Then he ran to his dad with a huge smile. The coach gave him the team ball. I wept.

With all the sorrow, pandemic, political and racial unrest in our country, God demonstrated to me He cares enough to bend low and hear my plea. Because our pastor was preaching on the feeding of the massive crowds, I shared this story with him. His response in part was, “How quick we are to filter out the grace and power of Jesus! I love how Jesus gave you His own heart of compassion for this boy in place of your own judgment. And then to see how you brought your humble prayer and how He answered in such a BIG way. A true 5+2= 5,000 moment! Oh the compassion, power, and wisdom of our Savior!”

But just like the feeding of 5,000 and 4,000, God wanted me to remember His compassion, so He came to another game and showed me. It was a totally different circumstance. I was tense, struggling with “Is this right to pray again for this boy? Am I using the goodness of God, trying to manipulate Him… and on… and on.” Finally, I heard God’s quiet voice to me “Gini, relax. I’ve got this”. What can you say to God in response? “OK, whatever and however” was my release prayer to God. It wasn’t even time for this youngster to bat. “Whatever and however,” I said to myself over and over. Finally it was his turn to bat. No hit this time. He walked. But what an unforgettable trip around the bases he had. Another teammate got a hit and moved him to second and then he stole third. But the on-field umpire called him out, so he ran to the dugout. Then the plate ump reversed the call and sent him back to third. Next play, he came home and scored our first run. Up until then, the score was 1-0, and we had been 0. It seemed that our bats were asleep, but as a catalyst, his run woke them up and we ended up winning the game. This was also GRAND- PARENT’S DAY, so his family was there to witness his adventure around the bases. Our season is over, but I don’t believe God is finished with this young man.

Gini and Charlie Walker

Although her parents and siblings were born in Arkansas, Gini was born and raised in California. She has been married to Charlie for more than 53 years. They live in Orange County, CA. Their son and daughter-in-law, granddaughter, and grandson live nearby.

Gini was active in the education of elementary school-age children. Feeling a misfit in education, she turned to and became active in adult ministry at their church.

Gini and Charlie have a joint ministry—12 years ago, Charlie designed and built a guest house on the back of their property. It is named Onesimus House, a gift from God of respite and renewal to missionaries from around the world. They call themselves God’s caretakers of this delightful place of rest and renewal.

Gini’s hobbies are gardening, reading, and writing. Their 3-year-old dog, Jackson, is such a joy in their lives. Gini and Charlie are members of Trinity Presbyterian Church of Orange County.