I spent Thanksgiving Day with friends and their extended family. After indulging in the traditional Thanksgiving feast and the subsequent clean up, a few of us went to the city lake with loaves of bread to feed the ducks and geese which have made the Jonesboro City Lake their permanent residence. The conversation on the way to the lake was one of wonder; "How many other people had already fed these water fowl?" "Would they be hungry?" "Would the old goose try to attack?" and "Would some of the snow geese that had been spotted in the area farmers' fields be at the lake today?"

When we pulled up to the shore line, a mixture of about 50 geese and ducks were floating on the calm water, not far from the bank. The minute we opened the car doors, these feathery creatures knew something wonderful was about to happen. They paddled their webbed feet briskly, aimed for the shore, and raced to where we were standing. They knew they were about to be rewarded for being in the right place at the right time! They anticipated a feast. They knew from prior experience that more than likely they wouldn't be going back into the water hungry. Some knew they would have to fight, push, and shove in order to be the first in line, the first to partake of the banquet prepared for them! Others just waited along the perimeter, watching, hoping they would also be included in the meal of white bread and pretzels, but also content to scavenge the area later and eat the crumbs.

How much different are we when it comes to the feast surrounding the learning and hearing of God's Word? When the church doors open, some eagerly enter, maneuvering to be in a location where they are able to concentrate fully on the Word, hearing everything God is speaking directly to their heart. Others are content to be on the outside perimeter, partaking of the events, but relieved that they have a convenient way out if needed. But unlike the birds at the lake last Thursday, there is also the group that observes from a distance. They are not really sure if what is being passed out is something they want, or they feel that they are not truly invited or welcomed to the feast. They wonder if they can savor the menu choices of grace, mercy, and peace that are freely being served by the head waiter, Christ.

What's your spiritual hunger? Are you starving and pushing to be as close to your Risen Savior as possible, similar to the woman who made her way in the crowd in order to touch Christ's robe? Or is your spiritual hunger one of contentment, sitting on the sidelines just seeing if you can get drawn in like Zacchaeus? Or is it more in line like the Pharisees, seeking your own satisfaction and wanting to do it your own way?

The ducks and geese we fed on Thanksgiving Day depend on others to satisfy their hunger. Are you dependent on the Living Bread to satisfy your spiritual hunger? How big is your appetite? Are you yearning to be fed? What are you doing to quench your gnawing spiritual hunger pains?

Enjoying the ride,

Jane