"Our Goal Was Food"

Yesterday at church, a Liberian pastor spoke. He shared of God's faithfulness during years of war and time in a refugee camp. He told of deep, deep need. Often he repeated that many times during his life his "goal was food." I left convicted.

How often do I complain in a state of abundance!

I don't feel like cooking.
I don't want anything we have.
Can't we go out. 
I complain . . . WE HAVE FOOD! WE HAVE PLACES TO COOK OUR FOOD FOR US! . . . and I complain.

The children are driving me crazy.
Everywhere I look there is a mess. 
Oh my gosh won't they be quiet.
I complain . . . I HAVE CHILDREN! (And worse than that, I know the pain of losing children. Oh my heart is fickle.) I HAVE STUFF FOR THOSE CHILDREN! . . . and I complain.

The windows need washed.
The laundry needs folded.
I need to do school. This reading will be a bear.
I complain . . . I HAVE A HOME! and WE ARE CLOTHED and I AM LITERATE WITH LOTS OF BOOKS! . . . and I complain.

What if it all went away? What if I lost everything? Then I would complain more rightly, needfully so, but what would God say? Wouldn't He be fair in saying, You don't have to eat. like I say to complaining children?

I find myself at the eye of the needle. Will I lay down all that is encumbering me to enter into His presence with thanksgiving? Will I shift my focus from a position of complaining that comes so easily of the over-abundance to a place of thankful giving?

Can I do it? Can I be so thankful that I diminish in such a way as to be able to pour this abundance of resources onto others? Can I stop complaining to become rich in eternity?

:: all that squash ::

:: having one "grumpy as a moose" because he is mine here to know ::

:: learning to learn with her ::

:: crochet hats ::

:: fabric becoming quilt ::

:: stomping frustration because she is with us, growing ::

:: a dishwasher so I don't have to ::

:: the copies of the Word placed about ::

:: books to share ::

::  the power tools in the living room because he is mine to love ::

Someone in a seminar stated that poverty is the lack of choices. If that is so, then wealth must be the abundance of choice. And then honestly, I must declare that I am wealthy indeed. May I begin to live like it--grateful and giving.