They didn't understand.

I'm old.  I should have gotten some understanding in all these years.  A couple of days ago, I read in the Book of Mark how two different times the disciples were afraid or confused and the writer said it was because they didn't understand about the 'loaves'.  In one place after Jesus spoke a warning to them, they were trying to figure out what he was talking about and he reminded them of the multiplication of the bread and said how can you not understand?  Well I have recently reread the stories of the loaves and I must admit that while I believe it and have committed to the facts given, I don't understand about the loaves either.
In that simple act of Jesus, there is obviously a key to some understanding of our relationship to this world and it's limitations that goes beyond my understanding.  Last Sunday, Stan told us that we need to ask for understanding.  I have done that, but there is a missing piece that keeps me bound to the limitations of this world.  Though I know that God is not all about me having every little wish granted, I never have believed that we should be confined to unmet needs and apologizing for unanswered prayers. Yet, we just don't comprehend the meaning of what Jesus did when he made the people sit down, blessed what they had and began to part it out.  Some say he made the crowd satisfied with the very small portion they received.  Come on now, read the story!
I come up against a legitimate need or a crazy out there idea and I know in my heart it is a breath away - if I could only understand.  My life is so full of absurdity and I succumb, because what else can a person do?  l feel my own lack and I pray for God's great wisdom and power to change me into a patient, kind and right thinking person, and then I walk away in the same defeat I came in.  Yet I believe.  I will continue to believe even when I can't understand.
If I had the understanding I need, I don't believe I would use it for wrong.  Without understanding, I would be a tyrant with power.  Last spring I screamed out to God believing that I had the 'information' and understanding about a problem.  I wanted to call forth destruction on a person who had injured one of my own.  I'm a bit of a mama tiger at times.  In time I realized that I did not understand the problem at all.  I had screamed "I want this fixed!"  Guess what, God began answering that prayer even though I didn't know the truth about what needed fixed.  The answer to that prayer brought me shame and humility and has revealed my weakness and my own injustice.  I still want it fixed, but the fix went somewhere I could never have asked to go.
Last Saturday, I was injured.  The injury has hung onto my heart for a week.  I have been here before.  I know these waters.  I need to get out of this cesspool filled with disease and unfathomable danger.  The monsters that live there should have been vanquished long ago.  I thought they were, but here I am: repulsed by the stench and defeated by dragons that I should not have to face at all.
My spirit has been crying "Give me understanding!"  But my mind and my heart are captive.  I fear what is walking across the water toward me in the storm.  But I know.  I should be able to rise up and walk out of this sewer of despair and pity.  Yet I hear him say.  Do you not remember the loaves?  To my shame, I must admit I don't understand.