The Little Boy in the Grocery Store

This semester, my students in Lead 212 chose to study the issue of food insecurity by jumping in with both feet and living on the budget of food stamps for a week - $4.16 a day. They opted out of the canned food drive that is generally done by the class, and came up with this project instead. When we discussed the idea of this in the classroom, I could see the excitement in their eyes. They were excited to make a difference in what was clearly a big issue, get their feet wet in a real world problem, and do something that was entirely their idea. I, however, was interested to see how it went. Although I figured they knew they would be very hungry for that week, I wasn't sure they knew exactly what to expect... and neither did I.

Although I chose to participate, I chose to only join them for a few days, knowing that my allergies to processed food would bring me problems for weeks after the project was finished. (But what an interesting thought - certainly I am not the only person on the planet with allergies, and I am blessed to have the choice of whatever food I want to eat) The biggest thing I noticed, starting on Day 1, was that I couldn't have coffee, it was just too expensive. Not having coffee both gave me a caffeine withdrawal headache, and also left me tired and lethargic most of the day. My morning classes, where I generally learn best, became a place where I just tried to stay awake.

And I only did this for three days.

My students started the project on a Friday and ended it on a Friday, and since our class meets on Tuesday afternoons, I got to see them right in the heart of their tough week. The group I usually see has a positive attitude, works together, listens to each other, and manages to work through issues and discussions in a way that helps them learn better than I could ever facilitate on my own. But that week, I didn't get that group. The group that surrounded me was tired, irritable, had a much more difficult time focusing, and it seemed like our conversations that were supposed to be about leadership and inclusion constantly traced back to food. After the week was over, they talked so much about how the food actually affected all the parts of their lives, not just the fact that they were hungry. They talked about how it affected their test grades, their study habits, and their sleeping patterns. They were more irritable, less focused, and realized that the lack of nutritious food suddenly affected much more than they thought.

One of the common myths about food insecurity that my students certainly destroyed and now understand better is that obesity and food insecurity are problems that exist at opposite ends of the spectrum - when in reality, they go hand in hand. My students discovered this as they had to consume so many more calories to even be close to full, but they couldn't afford fresh fruits or vegetables, let alone any amount of protein. Their diet consisted highly of ramen noodles, canned foods, or frozen meals. (See a picture that one of my students sent me after she went shopping - this was her food for a whole week.)

Today, my mom sent my sister and I to the grocery store to do her Thanksgiving shopping. We weren't overly excited about going to the grocery store the day before Thanksgiving, especially since some of the things on my mom's list were things like "water chestnuts" and "sage" and I'm in college so I'm used to buying "cereal" and "noodles". I was hoping to make the trip as painless as possible, so my sister and I split up and got through as quickly as we could.

I got to the snack aisle though, and there was a little boy who I could hear yelling at the man he was with. Then, I heard the man say "I know. I know you want popcorn. But I only get paid once a month, and we can't have that right now. You're going to have to wait." And my heart broke. I thought about the way that my sister and were running around the store, mostly concerned about getting through quickly, not at all concerned about adding up the price of the things we were buying and worrying about shopping on a budget.

I've always told people that the Christmas season is not my favorite simply because of the culture we live in, and I wondered: what would life be like if instead of being concerned about ourselves, or gifts, we started at the bottom just to be sure that our neighbors had enough food on their table everyday? Nutritious and whole meals, and never having the stress of not knowing where tomorrows dinner is coming from.

What would happen to our society if everyone had a place at the table?

My Father's House

Let's face it - we all like to dream. Most preschool aged children have imaginations that are crazy big, and it's easy to overhear them playing pretend; about house, construction, teacher, etc. When I was little, I remember dreaming a lot; about getting married, being a mom, and even at one point in life, being an architect so I spent my free time in class drawing sketches of houses on graph paper.

One dream I remember specifically that I had as a child was about heaven. People ask little kids about heaven a lot, maybe because their answers are cute, but if you ask me, I just think they have the best ideas. I remember picturing heaven as a city made entirely of gold, and it looked somewhat like Oz. There was also a St. Louis arch in that picture, don't ask me why.

A verse that aligns with this dream that I really like is John 14:2 "My father's house has many rooms, if that were not so, would I have told you that I was going to prepare a place for you?" So basically, when I was little, I pretty much imagined living in a castle. Like the one at Disneyworld. As I've gotten older, it's been less about Disneyworld, and more about home. Like maybe my senior pictures are in the hallway, and the kitchen always has chocolate, and that really good corn flake chicken my mom makes. Another translation of this verse uses the term 'dwelling places' instead of rooms. I like this, too, because I picture that as one of those big comfy sectional couches that you can sleep comfortably on. God probably has a lot of those.

When Brenna died, I loved this verse (and still do) because it helped give me a visual of where she was. I don't exactly understand all of heaven, but I liked the thought of her having her own room and then an extra room for her clothes since she would definitely need it. I liked the thought of her being 'at home', with her picture in the hallway, and the idea of Jesus greeting her joyfully at the door when she arrived shortly after what I could only imagine was an incredibly painful death.

Being on a college campus one thing that I hear a lot is people who came from a religious home and later decide they want to leave it behind. Others might suggest that they 'love God but not religion', and then there are the people who are not religious at all. I have met people of all beliefs, nationalities, ethnicities, political affiliations, and much more during my time in college, which has expanded my daydream of what my father's house really contains.

I hope that it is like the buildings I've lived and found as home in during my weeks in Hong Kong. They are large, multi-story buildings that sit in large cities. They have many corridors, many rooms, and open areas similar to a courtyard. The malls that we walked through in Hong Kong are some of the most confusing places I've ever been. (ask my teammates, without them I'd still be wandering around inside those malls)  There are escalators, hallways, everything is in a bright color, and the thing that the malls and the schools have most in common is that I can't read a lot of the signage.

I hope that my Father's House is that way. I hope that it is large and confusing, but is filled with people I have known, people I have not known, and that I often feel like the place is too big for me. I hope that there is familiar things, like chocolate in the kitchen, and unfamiliar things, like that dish I had in Hong Kong this year that one of my friends identified had 'chicken blood' in it. I hope that they happen at the same time, like when we sing songs in church in Hong Kong in English and Cantonese. As I roam through the world I live in (which right now is mostly just a college campus in Manhattan, Kansas), it brings me joy and comfort to dream about the things, the people, and the events that take place now and for eternity in my Father's House.

One of the hardest things about a trip overseas is making friends and having no idea if you're ever going to see them again. This summer, I taught two classes of four year olds, and during VBS one day, they learned the song "Big House" (YouTube it, or attend Sunday School long enough and you'll hear it) and it brought tears to my eyes to think that even if I do not ever see them again in my lifetime, I get to see them there. Where it matters. In my Father's House - which has many rooms, and He has gone to prepare a place for us.

John 12:24 "Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds."