"They have no wine."

I imagine the scene to look something like this.

They had gone to a wedding in Cana, Jesus, his mother, and his disciples. Everything was going as planned. The ceremony started without a hitch. The preacher didn't stumble over his words, the singer sang beautifully, it was almost too perfect of a day. At the reception, the tables were heaped with mouthwatering food. All the guest had a glass of tasty wine in hand, and they all stood in groups of three or more catching up and having a happy time. Right when the mother of the bride breathed a sigh of relief that this wedding would go down as defectless, the wedding coordinator hurries up to frantically informs her that there is no more wine. Mary, Jesus' mother, is standing very nearby and watches as the bride's mom, and wedding coordinator wring their hands as to how this embarrassing situation should be solved.  

Because Mary is a woman who ponders things in her heart, she quietly excuses herself from the group and walks to where her son is standing. Considering that she had watched her son's actions since birth, she wasn't sure what he would do, but Mary was rather sure that Jesus would have the answer to the "no wine" problem. Without any ado, she calmly, certainly, and candidly stated the fact, leaving the solution to him. She said, 

"They have no wine."

Today, I found myself stating the same words, but the scene was much different.

We, two Kenyan friends and I, were seated in a 10x10 room that is home to a family of five dear souls. This single room serves as kitchen, dining room, living room, bedroom, and whatever other room is needed for daily life. The mother was the only one home at the time, and she wasn't even in the house as we walked up. She was sitting just around the corner tending her vegetable stand hoping to make a few honest shilling so her family can eat, and her children can attend school. With the oldest child married, it makes things a bit easier but she still needs to provide for her other three children who are still in school -the youngest one attending Brilliant Sharping Community School. 

After we greeted each other and were seated on a couple of chairs, we explained the reason for our visit, and she related a glimpse of the hard that meets her when she awakes in the morning, troubles her all day through, and causes tears as she lies down at night. Although I couldn't understand first hand as she communicated pieces of her heart's grief, with the help of friends, I began to grasp what she was saying, and my heart broke for this loving mother. 

With injustice as commonplace, silence as the forced choice of communication, and poverty as the result of these both, all my heart could do was run to Jesus and calmly, certainly, and candidly state the fact,

They have no wine.

Those four words don't miraculously change the distressing situation this mother and so many other families in the Lunga Lunga slums finds themselves in, but those words allow entrance for Jesus to be Jesus. Honesty unlocks heaven. Because when we find our jars empty, our resources spent, our funds drained, our family crumbling, our problems beyond what we can solve, our only hope is Jesus. But Jesus can only be Savior, Redeemer, Provider, Sustainer, Friend when I, when we admit that we need him to be this for us. Jesus doesn't just know the answer or have the solution,

Jesus IS the answer and solution!