Sunday, June 5, 2011

bread and water

opening the cupboard doors for the tenth time never made more appear. yet the bareness of reality never kept me from reenacting, perhaps in desperation.

hope. maybe i had hope.

the wheels always turned in me and creativity spurred the most brilliant concoctions as a child:

  
  • brown sugar and butter makes caramel, sort of
  • bread ends with outdated yogurt and raisins
  • pilot crackers and canned tuna, of course
  • cabbage, lentils and chicken: something i like to call Beluga

growing up and even until now i never understood the virtue in poverty. maybe because i was too poor in other things like spirit at the time.


now though, as an adult, i see how intimate one becomes with God when they are poor. no longer merely self-reliant; when we have nothing else to trust we have only to trust God. if the world turns against us we turn to God. and so in a sense, those we damn and shame and judge (and maybe even yell out the car window, "Get a job!"); those we right off and cast out often have a far more exclusive provision with the Creator, than those who seek to fulfill their needs independently.

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