Driving home from church this afternoon I could hear my stomach singing louder than the radio.
It was a sound so familiar yet so haunting in the same moment.
While I was driving I thought back to the months I made myself skip meals for the sake of my image or denied myself food due to my weight.
How hard was it to ignore the grumbling?
How difficult was it to mask the noises that were so loudly heard?
Were they present or did my body willingly refuse to sound in anguish because it knew it’s plea would be ignored?
How often does our spirit plead with us. “Feed me?”
Our spirit much like our stomach needs fuel, and unlike our stomach, there is only one source for fuel for our spirit- our Heavenly Father.
When our spirits cry out, do we listen?
Do we go so far to let it even cry out?
How long must we continue to live in this hunger strike?
Must the cries grow louder than the everyday noise for us to acknowledge them?
End the strike. Feed your spirit. Feed your stomach.
“Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you shall be satisfied” Luke 6:21