The Bread of Life

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And so we wait.

Hurricane Matthew stands at the door, and we are anxious. This is my first real natural disaster. The silver lining is that we are a little over an hour from Savannah.

At this point, none of us know what the impact will be.

Earlier today, in what some would call a hurricane-newbie-freak out, I left my house for a loaf of bread. This is your default preparation in the mountains of Virginia when a snow storm is imminent.

But we live off of a main artery to the coast. Traffic was impenetrable.

I’m ashamed to admit that this was the first time I had truly considered what an exodus actually means for those individuals and families who have been forced to evacuate.

To where will they drive?

How will they cope?

And, perhaps most depressingly, to what will they return?

My mind flew over the Atlantic in that moment, and I thought of Syria, Ukraine, and every destabilized region where I know people are fleeing with equally passionate desperation.

And there I sat.

I turned off my blinker with resignation and headed back for home.

Tonight I think of my students – the ones who are still not yet home. I think of the families who do not have the means – or perhaps the humility – to evacuate. The fear, I can tell you, has a way of paralyzing us all.

But we cannot resist the call to shake off complacency – to truly give thanks for life that so few in this world get the privilege to enjoy.

For when the storm ceases, my prayer is that I will pick up the pieces with appreciation. That I will stop longing for things I don’t possess. That I will remember that my foundation – upon which our entire family rests – is a choice.

And, if I’m honest, the bread is a luxury. I have far more than I need.

6 thoughts on “The Bread of Life

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