“I’m staaaaaarving.” Anyone else’s kiddos claim this on a regular basis? In July of 2011, we received a phone call that would change our lives forever. Three little kids, whose mama couldn’t care for them anymore, needed a home. Twenty-four hours later we picked them up and brought them home as our own. For their first meal in their new home I had brilliantly planned Kraft mac & cheese and watermelon, because this was not my first rodeo. Listen, I had raised three boys before; I have wondered at the marvel of teenage boys descending on a kitchen like a cloud of moths, leaving no trace of a previously packed pantry. Even so, I had never seen anything like what I witnessed that day. In seconds, the three littles had inhaled all evidence of lunch; it was as if the food had instantly evaporated, the moment I placed it in front of them. I have felt hunger in the pit of my stomach before, the ache for sustenance, but my new children didn’t just eat with an insatiable hunger; they devoured their food out of desperation. It was something that even a full belly couldn’t fill. I experienced a version of this when a Cancer removal surgery extracted two-thirds of my tongue. For two weeks I could take nothing by mouth- not even water, and for weeks after that eating was excruciating. My mouth and throat seared with pain and my stomach howled to be satiated. It was a physical hunger I could not satisfy, but one that led me to recognize, it’s not only stomachs that long to be fed, but souls. “The irony is that our physical hunger is only the barest representation of our soul hunger. Ever since the Garden of Eden we have carried around this soul hunger that is starving for, is desperate for, intimacy. We are desperate to be connected and filled with a love that comes from relationship.” You don’t have to look much farther than our addiction-enslaved culture for evidence of this soul hunger. As people we are always looking for ways to dull, numb, or obliterate the pain that dwells within what feels like a cavern loosely held in place by our ribcage. Anxiety, restlessness, depression, and loneliness threaten to swallow us whole from the inside out; so, we medicate with drugs, alcohol, sex, disordered eating, extreme exercise, workaholism, another Netflix binge… We justify all of this manic behavior by tricking ourselves into believing that busyness will heal us from the ache within. Or that if we just lie still enough for long enough, perhaps this couch really will swallow us up and we won’t be able to feel anything anymore. While so often the room to breathe is found within the balance. In order to be awake, we must allow ourselves to feel, but it is far more rewarding than we picture the scene playing out in our heads. Soul hunger is fed through honest connection. Our souls crave intimacy like our stomachs crave sandwiches, and the scary feelings look a lot less like monsters when held up to the candlelight at a meal between friends. There are, at least, 3 means of significance of a shared meal: It reminds us of our shared humanity & need for relationship. Our shared knowledge of mortality makes way for humility in connection. It requires us to set aside our differing agendas, & come together for one shared purpose. A unifying experience in a world of differences. It provides an opportunity for reciprocity. We are led to yield to one another as we take turns eating and conversing. This week take some time to look for evidence of God’s presence amidst your hunger. Both our physical and spiritual hunger indicates needs we were created to have. Allow your hunger this week to point you in the direction of the only one who can truly fill the void.