Since I normally don't eat breakfast until about 8:00 a.m., this was a little discouraging. So I laid in bed, telling myself it was way too early to get out of bed, much less eat anything.
After about an hour, my husband got up and brewed some vanilla coffee. It made me think of...pancakes! There is something so comforting about the aroma of hot, traditional breakfast foods. Maybe that's because breakfast happens at the beginning of the day, before much of anything has had a chance to go awry. The day is still full of possibilities! And hope!
All those years I was so hungry. And I stuffed myself beyond full. I knew there was something else going on, but I kept eating, trying to satisfy...something. Some emptiness inside. Desperation, even. As I lay in bed this morning, I try to identify what I was really hungry for. On the surface I see a longing for happiness, contentment. Looking a little deeper I glimpse a hunger for meaning and purpose to my life. And deeper still is that need we all have, to be truly loved and accepted. Cherished, even. Delicious food is a wonderful gift from God to meet our physical needs, but it is a poor substitute for satisfying those deeper hungers. That's why I could never get enough, because eating filled only my stomach, not the void of longing in my soul.
I really am hungry! I'm hungry for a different kind of life...a new way of thinking. I'm hungry for breakfast...and the promise of a new day.