Hungry Enough to Rise Above Adversity

“How did you turn out so different?” 

This is a question I’ve had posed to me countless times throughout my life, especially once people learned of the circumstances in which I grew up.

The first answer that comes to mind each time I hear this question is “God.” I can truly say it has been God’s love and grace that have saved me and kept me through life. 

Then, of course, there is another common question I receive. 

“Well, doesn’t God love everyone? Isn’t His grace for everyone? What makes you so special?” 

So, I guess, it’s really a series of questions that follow. And, they are great questions. Questions I don’t feel have any singular, simple answer. 

Yes, God does love everyone. Yes, His grace is for everyone. And no, I’m not more or less special than anyone else. 

Each of us have an individual journey in life, so no two stories will ever be the same. But, I can share with you wisdom I’ve gleaned through my personal journey that I believe has made the difference.

The first experience I want to share takes me back to my high school and college days, with a little topic we know all too well … hunger. 

Many who think about this word would most likely reflect upon the television commercials which portray small children in foreign lands as being severely malnourished. Others may simply be reminded that they missed their daily afternoon snack, intended to hold them over until dinner. 

In either case, I’m sure we are familiar with this simple term, defined by Webster’s Dictionary to mean a strong desire or need for food. 

The word takes me back to a time in high school when one of my older brothers lived with us for a period of time. To help offset the cost of rent, my brother took over the purchasing and preparation of all household meals. Neither I nor my mother minded this arrangement, considering what a skilled cook we knew my brother to be. 

In fact, my only complaint about any meal he ever cooked came after a long day of school and work. I was immersed in homework when a foul odor began to make its way into my room, immediately triggering a throbbing headache and room-spinning nausea. My curiosity led me to investigate the cause of this foul odor emanating throughout the house.

“Do you smell that?” I asked everyone in the house, as I searched for the source. 

To my surprise, no one else seemed to notice. I received puzzled look after puzzled look as I went around asking. I was just about to check the garbage when I noticed my brother stirring the contents of a massive pot on the stove. As I approached him to ask if he knew anything about the wretched stench, I noticed the odor become stronger. The odor was coming from what my brother was cooking. 

“What is that?” I asked, hesitant to walk any closer. 

“These are ramen noodles. The kids love these and they are the cheapest way to feed a big crowd,” he responded, looking pretty proud of himself for whipping up such an economically sufficient meal. 

“Those smell horrible,” I proclaimed, baffled at how he was able to stand so close. I, myself, was fighting off waves of nausea as I breathed in the fumes. 

My brother offered to make me something else for dinner, but the smell had already ruined my appetite. 

A few years later, as a college freshman, I found myself hundreds of miles away from home and so broke I didn’t even have two pennies to rub together. Most days I attended classes on an empty stomach and was unsure where my next meal would come from. 

One evening, as I was studying for a major exam scheduled for the next morning, a delightful odor tickled my nostrils. Immediately my stomach began to rumble, reminding me of the fact I hadn’t eaten since the day before. 

I glanced over to my dorm-mate’s side of the room and watched as she casually ate her dinner. With a desperate boldness I asked if she had any extra she would be willing to share. 

“Sure,” she said, as she walked over to her pantry and grabbed out a package of something I couldn’t make out. She tossed the package to me and went back to eating her dinner. I fumbled with the small package and in turning it right-side-up, I read the letters scrawled across the package.

Ramen Noodles. 

It couldn't be! My mind buzzed with confusion. How could the same food that triggered a nauseating headache just a few years earlier cause my mouth to water now? I was having a hard time comprehending this phenomenon. 

It wasn’t until just a few years back that I finally understood what had happened. 

Simply speaking, my response to the same food was drastically different because my level of hunger was also drastically different. 

Though my life growing up was unstable in many ways, one thing my mother always made sure we had was food. So, I never experienced true hunger. 

In college, I was away from home and didn’t have any extra money for food. Hunger is something I grew to become familiar with. 

The same ramen noodles that nauseated me in high school made me salivate in college for one reason … I had grown hungry enough. 

My memories remind me of a story in the Bible of a rich young ruler. This young man approached Jesus one day, asking what he was to do to receive eternal life. 

“Thou knowest the commandments, Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Defraud not, Honor thy father and mother,” Jesus said to the young man. 

“Master, all these have I observed from my youth,” the young man replied. 

Jesus spoke again, saying “One thing thou lackest: go thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come take up the cross and follow me.” 

The rich young ruler had approached Jesus with a desire for eternal life and questions as to how he was to attain it. Unfortunately, that young man walked away from Jesus grieved because he refused to part with one thing. 

This young man was hungry enough to desire eternal life. 

He was hungry enough to learn all of the commandments and follow them. 

He was also hungry enough to seek out the Lord and ask him what it would take to obtain eternal life. 

However, he wasn’t hungry enough to follow the instructions given to him … to part with the one thing that was holding him back. 

When I think of the question I get asked about “how” I turned out so differently than the family members I grew up around, this story comes to mind. 

You see, in growing up in a drug, crime, and violence-infused environment, I often had two choices to make.

The choice to take on the characteristics and behaviors of those around me, or the choice to be different. 

Like the rich young ruler, I had the desire to be different and that desire was matched with the hunger to be intentional about seeking out how to be different. 

But, also like the rich young ruler, I had my very own “one thing” that I needed to give up in order to obtain the difference I was looking for. 

You may be asking what that “one thing” for me was. 

If we really take a look at what the young ruler was asked to give up, it was much more than wealth. In giving up his wealth, he would have been giving up his ability to lean on his wealth for comfort. He would have been giving up the single resource that made him who he was … a rich young ruler. 

That rich young ruler didn’t necessarily have a problem separating from his wealth. His real issue was separating from the thing that he thought gave him his identity … separating from the thing that gave him the promise of comfort. 

The rich young ruler found identity and comfort in his wealth. He was hungry enough to desire the good things of God, but not hungry enough to give up his current identity and comfort for the best things of God. 

Though you and I may not be “rich” like the young ruler, the truth is, there is a level of comfort we find within our identity … no matter how good or bad the circumstances. Most people don’t like discomfort and aren’t always willing to trade in comfort for something that is unknown… even if the unknown is much better than what we are used to. 

It took me coming to the end of myself, hitting my proverbial rock bottom, to even be willing to entertain the idea of laying aside my comforts. 

In that rock bottom place, a place I remember all-too-well, is when I realized that I wanted something MORE than the identity and comforts I had grown used to. It was also in that place I made the intentional decision to start the process of laying down my “one thing.” 

I was hungry enough. 

Today, as you read this text, you have decisions to make. 

You may be like the rich young ruler and desire for the next steps of your life to be better than the previous. You may even be seeking out how to make your next steps better. In your search, you will find there are comforts and elements of your identity that you’ve grown accustomed to. 

Before you can take on the next steps of your life successfully, you will need to be hungry enough to lay aside your “one thing.”