Unarmed Hungers 

Naming our hungers helps. But they must be disarmed too.

This is the place 
where unnamed hungers 
are fed, the place 
of clear water, 
refreshment. 

A fellow blogger, Deep calls to deep, recently posted a poem, a redux of, or leading back to, the 23rd Psalm (full poem below). As I read the portion above, instead of “unnamed hungers,” at first I saw “unarmed hungers.” I started to laugh at myself, but then I thought, no, our hungers often are armed and need to be disarmed.  

Even unnamed hungers can be armed. They may be unnamed because they are unconscious or subconscious. Pushed down, walled off. We may not know what is fully going on down there, sometimes screaming for relief, sometimes huddled in a ball. Only God knows our hearts. But there is sure to be included unnamed hungers for love, acceptance, respect, recognition, approval, belonging, family. A hunger to be known. To be heard. 

Naming our hungers helps. But they must be disarmed too. What arms our hungers? Anger, rage, unforgiveness, bitterness, rebellion, blame, resentment, insistent claims for defrauded rights, vengeance, suspicions and assumptions, hopeless expectations. Could they even be armed with self-righteousness, pride, prejudice, denial? How can we receive his hope, strength and solace when we have armed ourselves against needing it? Against trust? 

Let us surrender to the One who fills every hunger, for Jesus said, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger” (John 6:35). Let’s lay down our arms, give ourselves up, yield to his love and care, trust, rest in Him. 

You lift my head; my vision clears. 
The blessing cup overflows. 

Psalm 23 redux by Carla A. Grosch-Milleri (Blogged by Deep calls to deep https://deepcallstpdeep.wordpress.com/2021/08/30/psalm-23-redux/

This I know: 
My life is in your hands. 
I have nothing to fear. 

I stop, 
breathe, 
listen. 

Beneath the whirl of what is 
is a deep down quiet place. 
You beckon me to tarry there. 

This is the place 
where unnamed hungers 
are fed, the place 
of clear water, 
refreshment. 

My senses stilled, 
I drink deeply, 
at home in timeless territory. 

In peril, I remember: 
Death’s dark vale holds no menace. 
I lean into You; 
Your eternal presence comforts me. 
I am held tenderly. 

In the midst of all that troubles, 
that threatens and diminishes, 
You set abundance before me. 
You lift my head; my vision clears. 
The blessing cup overflows. 

This I know: 
You are my home and my hope, 
my strength and my solace, 
and so shall You ever be. 

i Psalms Redux: Poems and Prayers. Carla A. Grosch-Miller. Hymns Ancient & Modern Ltd. 2014. 

Image, photograph copyright by Jack Bair