A week of food deprivation took it’s tool on the body as I laid in bed shivering, frail and faint.
Why didn’t I eat this week? Was it laziness? Was it ignorence? What was it?
The knock on the door only irritated me further. It took all my remaining strength to get up and answer the door. I squinted my eye from the pain the light reflecting through the window gave me. A UPS guy stood in front of my door. A huge box sat next to him.
“Sighn here, please.” I signed. The unexpected blow come from my left and I fell down too weak to get up as he hit me over and over leaving behind broken bones, gashes with fresh blood dripping all over my bruised and semiconscious self. Then he leaves. I lift my fist in utter bitterness and anger.
“Where is my neighbor when I really need them? Where is everyone? Can’t they see I’m hurting here?” The UPS left, not bothering to bring the big box inside the house. Now I’m left struggling with the box and cursing all the people, so called friends, too selfish to come and help me.
This is a fictional story, based on something God tried to help me understand. When we choose not to feed ourselves regularly -everyone eats a different amount of food and their diets are different than yours- you weaken and are easy prey to the unforeseen battle ahead. Same with soul/spiritual nourishment. If we don’t regularly feed ourselves -encouragement, pozitive thoughts and faith (in God in my case), we’re left just as weak and vulnerable as the example given, and simple tasks- like lifting a heavy box- became overwhelmingly frustrating. To blame God or other’s for us freely choosing not to nourish ourselves is just as ridiculous as the example given. Stop over-spiritualizing -myself included- our actions or lack there of. We must take responsibility for our actions. More times than not, we suffer from being unprepared.