I woke up hungry and thirsty early this morning. That’s unusual for me.
Yes. The early part is unusual, as many of my readers already know. I don’t do mornings well. But the alarm clock in my head (which is about 10 minutes faster than the one in my smartphone) went off about 6:20.
Something else was not normal about the first statement above, as well.
After I showered and shaved, I told the Lovely Lady that I had been dreaming of bacon and eggs right before waking up. And I never eat breakfast; not the conventional breakfast menu, anyway.
Why would I dream of breakfast? Or, be thirsty when I awoke?
Perhaps it has something to do with the reason my alarm was set for 6:30 this morning. The nice lady who called me yesterday from the hospital told me I had to arrive there by 7:30. My appointment for a diagnostic procedure was set for an hour later, but they needed me there early to prepare.
I thought I had been preparing.
I have dreaded the day before this since I found out the event was scheduled. The day before meant no food. All day. Nothing but clear liquids. And, other unsavory preparations I won’t describe here.
Then the nice lady informed me that after midnight, nothing at all was to go into my mouth. Nothing means nothing.
I know. I asked her. No food, no drink, period.
I was hungry and thirsty as I neared the end of my preparation period.
Ravenous, even.
Did I say my internal alarm clock roused me early? I’m thinking that, more likely, it was the beep of the message app on my phone—the arrival of the daily verse, which a friend in Texas shares. He sends it before 6:30.
I read it about 9:00 on every other day. Not today.
I laughed when I saw the words at the break of day this morning.
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” (Matthew 5:6)
What a perfect thought for the day I was headed into! I had time to consider it as I lay on the gurney, awaiting my visit with the surgeon and his team. The nurses and anesthetist teased as I whined plaintively. Cokes and hamburgers, they suggested, were waiting for me at the end of my ordeal.
Do you know what it’s like to be hungry and thirsty? I mean, really hungry and thirsty?
Not just one day without food and then a night without water, but starving and parched. Absolutely parched.
The psalmist knew what it felt like. I won’t print the whole thing here, but his thoughts are found in Psalm 42. You might recall the most familiar words with which he begins: “As the deer pants for the water, Lord, so my soul pants for you…” (Click the reference when you have time to really think about it. The entire psalm is the prayer of one who knows extreme starvation and thirst, but wants nothing more than to eat and drink without end at God’s table again.)
We don’t want that, though.
Like me and my physical appetite, we’re satisfied with the imitations nearby. Hamburgers and pop, when the table is overflowing with delicious and life-giving food, prepared by loving hands.
Money and power, selfishness and depravity, when our Creator made us to walk with Him in righteousness.
We will never be satisfied with the placebos of the world. Pale parodies of the eternal wealth He offers, they can never begin to approach it.
And yet, we who claim to be His followers chase the world. Still.
He says to come and eat food that satisfies. To come and drink of living water from a source that will never run dry.
I don’t need bacon and eggs. Or hamburgers and cola.
There is more.
More.
It was always there.
Who’s ready to eat?
“First we eat, then we do everything else.” (M.F.K. Fisher, American food writer)
“I thirst for God, the living God.
When can I go and stand before him?
Day and night I have only tears for food,
while my enemies continually taunt me, saying,
“Where is this God of yours?”
(Psalm 42:2-3, NLT)
© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2025. All Rights Reserved.