Tag Archives: Survival

Crumbs

3 Oct


And she said, Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters’ table.   Matthew 15:27

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Living in rural Arizona you see a lot of amazing sights. We frequently come face to face with antelope; I give them the right of way! We have wild flowers that take over barren fields. Chickens, cows, sheep, goats and horses fill the yards as we travel around town. It’s a quiet place, a place to slow down and breathe; a place of reflection.

Working in the city is such a contrast to the area where I live; life is so fast paced. There are different types of survival means in the city, overcrowding, people losing homes, scarcity of food and yet the only portion you can really see are where the homeless line the streets. Survival instincts of the animals in the country seem clearer and easier to recognize, perhaps because of the wide open spaces of the country. Coyotes and mountain lions come closer to the farms when the food is scarce. I find myself much more aware of my surroundings at that time of the year.

One afternoon we passed a small farm where the horses had just been fed. The master had put the horse food into a big blue plastic barrel (a large oval cut into it) that tied sideways to the top cross-rail of the fence. As the horse munched away little bits of grain fell from its mouth. The goat, outside of the corral, got down on its knees and crawled under the blue barrel and fence post, head tipped up, trying to catch the bits of grain as it fell. The goat was hungry and willing to do whatever it could for a morsel of food.

We are so spoiled by instant TV evangelists, instant radio preachers, CD worship music, Ipod sermons, Podcasts; even electronic Bibles. Oh, that we could be so hungry for God that we would put ourselves in danger for just a morsel. What a sweet refreshing that taste would be.

God, open our hearts for a driving hunger that can’t be quenched by any means except time at YOUR feet. God, please take away our “fast is better” mentality. Blow away the chaff, the noise and the distractions of daily life. Silence the words spoken in Your name that have nothing to do with You. Search me Lord. Call me Lord. Help me to come.

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Written by Linda J. Humes

9-29-09

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HOPE

18 Jul

Hopeless child

“Now hope is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Hebrews 11:1

I knew what I wanted to be from the age of 3.  Every year it changed, sometimes every month.  I had big elaborate dreams and overwhelming visions.  Some came to pass, some I let go with maturity – but I would never have been able to accomplish anything in life if I hadn’t had those dreams built on hope.

I worked in an inner-city school and had gathered a small group of children together for a state standards test.  These were the students that had been absent on the regular testing day and had to make-up the test.  One little boy, 3rd grade, 8-year-old, captured my heart.  This boy whizzed through the math, flew through the language, but when the time came for writing he sat, not moving, eyes firmly fixed on his paper.

The test allowed 45 minutes for this section.  After 30 minutes all of the other students were gone and he sat alone, staring.  When I reminded him of the time, tears began to well up in his eyes.  I asked if he had ideas of what he could write.  He shook his head “no.”  I suggested his favorite person, a hero – he didn’t have one.  What about what he wanted to be when he grew up – he didn’t know.

President?  “No.”

Astronaut?  “No.”

Movie Star?  “No.”

Sports Star?  “No.”

I suggested he write about fun times with his Mom – he did not have a memory of a fun time with his Mom. Special times spent with his Dad – he never had a special time with his Dad.  Fun or silly things he did with his pets – didn’t have a pet, never did.  A sports game he’d gone to – never been to one.  A vacation – never been on one.

With each suggestion his shoulders stooped a little farther until he almost lay on his paper.  A moment later he began to sob.  I tried to comfort him, letting him know that it was only a test and that there were no right or wrong essays, it was just his thoughts he needed to write down – it didn’t help.  I finally told him to just write who he was and that he couldn’t think of anything to write – and I silently prayed that his sentence would be long enough for them to grade.

He handed me his paper and pencil and slowly left to go back to his regular classroom, wiping his eyes and composing himself as he went.  I felt as broken as he.  I was angry with the culture.  I was angry with the school.  I was angry with the parents.  I was angry with the whole system, a system that allows 8-year-old boys to “survive” day to day in a difficult inner-city world with no hope for tomorrow.  With a culture where two parents with a limited education struggle to make a home and feed a family, but have no time to nurture the hopes and dreams inside the children.

What has happened to our culture when our children have no hope for tomorrow?  Where, Jesus, do we start?  How, Lord do we begin to show the children the very love of God that builds the hope and dreams they deserve – when God isn’t allowed in the schools?  How, Jesus, do we place into an 8-year-old child a dream to be the President, an astronaut, to be a parent and raise a family – a desire to LIVE for tomorrow?

Lord Jesus, forgive us our sins of not seeing those, most precious in your sight, laying waste in a life of “getting by.”

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