Previous Challenge Entry
Topic: Hunger (11/08/04)
|
TITLE: I want more, Mommy, please! By Sally Clark 11/15/04 |
 LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
SEND ARTICLE TO A FRIEND
|
Of course she wants more, I thought. More toys, more candy, more hugs, more stories, more time, more of me. She’s a human being, designed by God to hunger and thirst and desire.
Predictably, continually, perpetually.
We eat meals three times a day, at least. We’re often full, but the benefits only last a matter of hours. You’d think we’d stop at some point. But we don’t. We can’t, even if we try. Our bodies are designed to hunger. Hunger is a blessing that perpetuates our survival, the same as thirst. It’s one of the things that keeps us alive. We are designed to be creatures of desire, need, hunger, and want, perpetuating our dependency upon a God who is designed to provide, give, supply and nourish, apparently for eternity. We know that there is hunger in heaven, because there’s a feast to satisfy us. But what about the here and now? What are we supposed to do with the hunger He has filled us with? It seems no matter how much of Him, I have, I always want more. Gluttony is my blessing but it can also be my curse, making me vulnerable to my enemies.
Satan can’t create anything. All he can do is suggest a perversion of what was intended for good, like hunger. “Have an apple. They’re delicious. They’ll make you healthy, wealthy and wise,” he whispered seductively to a woman in a garden over-laden with fruit who was designed to want and desire good things. She gave it a try, even though she’d been warned that apples were not the way to get what she wanted. She was just so hungry.
The desire wasn’t bad but the method of satisfaction was.
Satan says satisfy your longings NOW with THIS. God says wait and wait and wait some more and someday, you will be satisfied with Me. Enjoy what you have, but don’t stop wanting more. The desire and the hunger are not what’s wrong with us. The demand for satisfaction is. I want God now, today, live and in person, with answers to my questions and love to set my heart spinning. And sometimes all I get is the silence of that one word, wait.
Reaching my arms around her, I pull my daughter close to my heart, whines and all. “I know, honey,” I say gently, “I know just how you feel. But I’m afraid today is not the day you’re going to get more. Maybe another day. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
She looks up at me, confused, but quiet; reassured of company in her misery, as we walk away together, continuing our journey.