“I am the Bread of Life.  I am the Living Water.”  Jesus Christ

my fifteen first-graders scurried to line up the minute they heard the whistle blow.  recess was over, and we were heading back to the classroom.  for no real reason, i took a short cut and led them through two other portables straight toward our “purple cabin.”

as grass became pavement, i heard a gasp and several voices filled with concern.  i turned around to find my class hovered around a small, feather-less baby bird on the sidewalk.  he was not alive.

“oh, noooooo, miss goude, he’s dead.”

“what are we gonna DO about this?”

“he’s so young.  where are his parents?”

“what happened to him?  how did he get here?  did they push him out?”

“he’s so little….  oh, why did he have to die so SOON?”

“we should have a funeral, like we did for the fish last year.”

“this makes me so sad.”

“he didn’t get a chance to live.”

i reminded the children that for everything created, there is a time to be born, a time to live, and a time to die.  some live a long life, and some live a short one.  we don’t understand the reasons. 

we tossed around a few ideas about what to do with “the body.”  no one felt good about leaving it on the concrete.   as we discussed the options, the sound of loud chirping interrupted us.  the baby’s parents were overhead on a wire, none too happy about our interference.  a little nervous now, the children settled on saying a prayer and leaving the scene. 

they asked me to pray.  i offered a handful of words, thanking God for His creation and asking His blessing on all the animals living around our school.  using a folded sheet of paper, i scooped up the bird, laying its skinny body underneath our portable, in the shade but where the parents could still see it.

“wow, ya’ll, i think it’s interesting that WE are the ones who found this bird.  we NEVER walk this way from recess, but today we DID.  and we got to put this baby bird in a safer place.  isn’t that amazing?”  i asked.

diana responded, “well, here’s what i think happened.  i think God TOLD you to walk this way, because He trusted us to take care of His creation.  and i think the whole thing was on purpose.  i think He knew we would do the right thing.  that’s what i think. “

every little first grade head nodded in agreement.  and that was that. 

we walked back into our classroom.

later on, i began thinking about that baby bird.  no doubt he died waiting to be fed, hoping for something to sustain his life.  in all likelihood, he died hungry.

then i started thinking about the world in general, even people i know.  people who are hungry.  hungry in their souls.  hungry in their spirits.  waiting to be fed.  waiting for someone, anyone, to bring them something to sustain their lives.

and i asked myself a hard question.  “what am i offering to those around me?  what am i prepared to give to a hungry world?”

look around you.  most people live on their phones.  even in restaurants, so often i see a couple at a table, and one of them is texting or talking.  the other eats in silence.  no conversation.  no encouragement.  no connection.  nothing feeding the relationship.

others are sustained by the computer.  social networking.  gotta see who commented on my facebook status today.  gotta give my opinion about the latest hot topic.  gotta see who’s looking for me.  they’re great at being online friends, but try to get some wisdom or understanding in person, and you’ll come up dry.

still others arrange their schedules according to the television.  gotta record my show.  gotta see that next segment.  they can quickly report who got kicked off american idol this week, but they don’t have much to say when you share your struggles.  your griefs.  your questions.  your discouragements.

Jesus said, “where your treasure is, your heart is”  and  “out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.”

yes, i’m in the scriptures, but not enough.  yes, i’m on my knees, but not enough.  listen, i speak Jesus when i see an open door, i speak Life into others when i have spiritual eyes to see their needs.  but often i’m blinded by my own and i miss opportunties.  i miss the voice of God calling me to feed the spirits and souls of those around me.  to speak His life-sustaining words over them.

and people die.

they die hungry.

they don’t expect to die before they’re fed, but sometimes they do. 

were they waiting on me?  

are they waiting on you?