Hungry For More

It’s funny how something as ordinary as pancakes for dinner can ignite a theological meandering in one’s head. (That happens to other people, right?)

It was already late. We needed a quick meal. I considered fixing pancakes and bacon, but my eldest daughter isn’t fond of pancakes. (Please. I know.) The girl loves eggs. Eggs. Not pancakes. So, I did what any mother who wants to transition into a relatively seamless, drama-free bedtime would do. I added eggs to the menu — something for everyone.

What I failed to take into account was the degree to which my pancake-resistant child was hungry. It was later than our usual dinnertime. Throw in a growth spurt, and you’ve got a ravenous child. A child who ate not only 2 pieces of bacon and 4 (5?) eggs, but two pancakes. TWO. Without complaint.

She ate the pancakes – gladly – because she was hungry.

And that’s when the meandering began. One of those funny thoughts occurred to me. Not ha-ha funny. The other kind. The kind that elicits a funny look when you express it — like the one I had tonight about my daughter and the pancakes. And hunger.

Most of us wouldn’t consider hunger a blessing. Pancakes, yes. Hunger – not so much.

Yet, it was the hunger – not the pancakes – that paved the way to thankfulness.

I don’t dare to say it out loud because it sounds wrong – heretical, even.

But what if there’s something to it?

What if the things we count as blessings aren’t blessings at all?

At least not the best kind.

What if our abundance – our satiety – our comfort – serves to dull our hunger for something better?

Something infinitely better than we can ask or imagine?

Go ahead. Make all the funny faces you want.

I think the pancakes put me onto something…

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