Hungry

This morning my kids complained that we didn't have anything good to eat. This is a daily occurrence. They have a short list of kid approved cereals, all containing massive amounts of sugar, marshmallows, chocolate, and artificial fruit flavors. They don't like the selection I offer. I sent them off to school, tummies full of toast and milk and in a few hours they will eat a school lunch of chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes and gravy, a tea roll, and apricots. After I pick them up I will listen to wailing about how hungry they are and how they need an after school snack but it better be a good one. (translated: sugar) Tonight for supper it's something with chicken, yet to be decided. And then dessert.

I have been reading a book that was passed on to me by a dear friend. I'm about 3/4 of the way done with it and it's called "It's Not Ok With Me" by Janine Maxwell. An couple excerpts from the back cover:

"This book is not for the faint of heart."

"...she found herself standing face to face with the AIDS pandemic and trying to understand what to do with 15 million orphans who are left in it's wake. Her story is brutally honest and will take you straight to the heart of the issue of Africa's great need."

I have read page after page of horrific stories. I have tried to understand the depth and the width of the need. I read of children digging in the trash for food and I still had no concept of what that really means.

Then a few days ago, God grabbed my heart in the middle of my ordinary daily life. I was driving back home from dropping the kids off at school. As I pulled up to a stoplight I noticed that I was right behind one of our city's garbage trucks. It had obviously just made a stop at Subway, there were numerous bags, cups, and napkins bearing the restaurant's logo. It had just crushed the trash in preparation for the next stop. I sat there at the light, eyes fixed and unmoving on a river of liquid trickling down the bed of that truck bed. I was frozen as I watched that river of slime. I was safe behind my windshield with my windows up so I didn't even catch a whiff of what had to be a putrid smell. My heart started to awaken and I pictured my children digging through that refuse looking for their next meal. I willed myself to let my mind continue on that train of thought, as difficult as it was. I pictured them standing ankle deep in that trickle of sludge, reaching in and digging around in it, searching for a piece of bread or a scrap of meat thrown away by someone at Subway. I was sick to my stomach.

Of course it didn't escape me that this would be considered upper class trash compared to what the homeless, parentless children of the world are digging though right this minute. Subway? Come on. The slum of Kipsongo doesn't have a Subway. What kinds of things are these children standing in while they look for a meal? What kinds of things are these children of God eating?

It's heartbreaking. It's unfathomable. My children have no idea what they have.

God, why? What would you have us do?