PlentyShe caught my eye across the room. She was clean, her boy was clean, she didn't look needy.
She looked like me. Not too long ago, little boy in tow. Only I, WE... never stood in a soup line.
I stand in a grocery line and complain about the wait.
She stands in a soup line smiles at me and says "just half for him, we don't want waste it."
I dump half the bowl in the trash because my boy doesn't like onions and celery.
Fussy eaters, spoiled in their plenty.
The smell makes it hard for me to sleep. I remember the smell of that meat pie. Serving, upon serving. "Can we have seconds today?" "Yes, please do, we have plenty today."
Their plenty and my plenty - so different.
Their plenty means seconds, enough to hold them until the next meal...the next day...the next seconds.
My plenty means dumping what's not eaten because we're --
Too full. Too much enough. Too many seconds. Too full of plenty.
Too full of ...His Grace.
The only thing that separates me from her. His Grace. I bake a cake, stir the beans, spoon out the meat pie...
Then I go home to my plenty and feel ...empty.
He must increase, but I must decrease.
I am decreasing day by day. Decreasing the plenty. The needs, wants, have to's which fill the me places ....daily decreasing and being filled... with Him.
Thank you Spirit for those words. Filling my empty to plenty again with His words of assurance. His Love. His Presence. His Grace.