Wednesday, 14 January 2015
We women are so busy feeding others that we often forget to eat. That’s when our hunger sneaks up on us. And pounces.
You know the scenario. You’re heading home from work or from picking up the kids at the ball field. It’s dinner time, but you are driving right past the cleaners so you swing in. Then you remember there’s a prescription waiting for you at the pharmacy. Oh, and you need to pick up a couple of things for dinner. By the third “quick stop” you snap.
“Stop fighting over that stupid toy!” You seize the plastic object and slam it into a trashcan. “That jerk just took up two parking spaces!” You lay on the horn and hit the accelerator.
You’re “hangry,” that word coined for the moment when our hunger brings out the worst in us. It surprises us. It’s ugly. But now that we’ve named it, we know what to do. Time to get some food into us. And apologize.
Pushing past hunger
I’ve found that I’m not always aware when my soul is hungry either. I push past my hunger, doing the next thing, brushing symptoms away like an annoying fly that keeps buzzing in my ear. I’ve got too much to do to worry about how I’m feeling.
I sit down with my Bible, trying to catch up on my daily readings. Before long I realize I’ve been reading the same two verses over and over. I can’t focus.
Father, what’s wrong with me? I’m in some kind of funk. I can’t figure it out. My mind wanders back through the previous day. Meetings, interruptions, conversations, a missed appointment, several rounds of phone tag, and a late night at the computer. I’ve been busy.
It wasn’t a voice, but it was a very clear idea that appeared, without help from me. My Father was answering. Diagnosing. Naming my hunger. Yes. That’s it. Speak to me about that.
I turned back to the verses I had been trying to read, hungry to hear what my Father had to say.
Me or Him?
Am I making the Bible all about me? That’s what I’m always tempted to do. Flip to favorite passages. Open at random for a quick dose of comfort or a quick answer to a personal question. No, the Bible’s not all about me. But it’s also not just about God. That may sound shocking, but hear me out. God is the author and hero of the story. He is first and last and primary, but he is not alone. From the moment he decided to create us, the Bible became the story, not just about him or us, but about him and us.
That’s why I need to bring myself to the Word. And then set myself aside to hear his side of the Story.
That’s why I am invited to bring my hunger to the Word. And then take and eat what he gives me.
For he satisfies the longing soul,
and the hungry soul he fills with good things. Psalm 107:9