Hungry

Hungry

Written by Nancie Carmichael

On my drive to town yesterday, I saw a man standing near the curb holding a large sign with one word: HUNGRY. It wasn’t a good place for him to be as I had to watch for oncoming traffic to merge. Mildly irritated, I acknowledged him with a nod and a half-hearted smile.

Then I remembered the boxes of food my husband and I had bought at Costo for our local food bank that were in the back of my car. The food pantry was on my way, so I silently thanked the man for the reminder and turned off to deliver the food. I hoped the hungry man would find his way there! The good people who oversaw the food pantry were grateful, and on I went to run my errands, thinking of what it means to be hungry.

Hunger is a basic human need. In fact, our first instinct after we are born is to cry to be fed, to be held.

Jesus told us to notice those basic human hungers and to do something about it.1 And for sure, we all hunger. We hunger for food, for water. We hunger for human connection: “You took me in.” We have a primal need for clothing for protection, for a level of dignity. When we are in pain and or sick, we need others to notice, to care. The simplest act of taking time to listen can do wonders to alleviate suffering, physically or otherwise. In our tech-driven world, many people hunger for connection. Our presence can bring healing. And yes, we hunger to have our injustices acknowledged. Jesus reminded us to visit those in prison—often filled with people who have suffered injustice who long to have someone hear their side of the story.

How hungry we are! Some of us are hungry for fellowship; to be seen, to have significance. To succeed. These are good hungers, when tempered. But our hunger for success or power can derail us. Relationships suffer from such hunger if not shaped first by a hunger for what is right and good and fair. Jesus said, “Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness…” 2

My dad, Gunder Pearson, was a wheat and cattle rancher. He was a hard-working father of seven, serving on various boards, but I’ve never met anyone who lived out Jesus’ instructions as effectively as he did. Quietly, and with few words. Mother might say, “Dad’s a little late, he’s stopping by to see Jake Swanson. He’s not feeling well.” Or someone in the community had a bereavement and he was stopping by to offer condolences. He helped at a rescue mission monthly, as well as on Sunday afternoon services at the local nursing home (coaxing us kids to go along). In fact, he bought me an accordion when I was 13 so I could play music for “shut ins” and we children would sing for them. (Poor shut-ins!)

He never passed up a hitchhiker. “It’s just a fellow down on his luck,” he’d say, no doubt remembering his youth in the Depression. I went with him once to take groceries to a family living in a dilapidated trailer where the man had been out of work. “Stay in the car and I’ll be right back,” he told us as he picked up the bags of food. “I’ll just drop the food off because the man is embarrassed that he needs help.” After Dad passed away, we heard stories of how he helped countless others, never telling anyone.

(1) Matt. 25:31-45   (2)Matt. 6:33

As I look back, I wonder how he found these people. How did he know about them? He often stopped for coffee with neighbors, so I think he listened with an ear for those who needed care. My dad was driven by love for God and compassion for others. His life compels me to want to see the hungry. Not just people holding signs but the hunger in all of us. In me, too. The surprising thing is that when we reach out to others, our own hunger is met. These words from Jesus are true: “Give, and it will be given to you.” 3

(3)Luke 6:38