While I sit at my Savior's feet, as the crowd did that day (see Mark 6:34), for what am I hungry? Do I think of Him the way the anonymous poet did who wrote:
My Master was so very poor, a manger was His cradling place. So very rich my Master was, Kings came from away to gain His grace.
My Master was so very poor and with the poor He broke the bread. So very rich my Master was that the multitudes by Him were fed.
My Master was so very poor they nailed Him naked to a cross. So very rich my Master was, He gave His all and knew no loss.
But, oh, the gain when my soul is fed by Him!
From "Together with Jesus, " Richard E. Lauersdorf, from a devotion for February 25.