A Belly Full... of Poverty.

A Belly Full… of Poverty.

It’s amazing what some will do in order to not taste the regurgitation of poverty; some are willing to crash head-on into another individual, and be willing to break bone or severely injure another human being, all in the name of sportsmanship.

Others are willing to risk a limb in a vehicle accident in hopes of an ambulance-chasing attorney to garner him or her some pocket change, while others are willing to assist grandma on over to the other side of Heaven’s pearly gates for her life insurance policy. 

And not that its life-changing money, mostly a drop in the bucket called life, but something they are surely thinking is “something better than nothing”.

Old folks like to put it this way… “A belly full is a belly full.” But I beg to differ, a belly full of surf and turf, fine cuisine is far satisfying than a belly full of sardines, hot sauce and crackers.

Now we’ve already established what a belly full of poverty will make us settle for, what do you think that a belly that has never tasted poverty will do, not to be able to taste a burp of it? Anything is right.

I can’t help but muse of which is worse to have to choose from?  Insatiability strong as a vampire’s blood-thirst that we’d be willing to do anything, to oppress a people, to SILENCE a voice permanently if outspoken against the law of the land, or suffer the manna of welfare or a forty hour plus work week until we drop dead in the wilderness.

Feed us God till we want no more… No more poverty, gluttony or welfare system that is designed to fill but not satisfy.  God will give us the satiety we desire, he will fill us, if we ask Him to.

I’m tired of eating and being hungry again in a few hours… Hungry for humanity to stand up for the God of our Salvation and greedy for true change for this world; and for social injustices to go on as status quo, we march, protest and then go back to our cubby-holes and lick our wounds until the next great disaster enthralls the nation and we have great water cooler conversations and break-room tantrums.

We don’t need to see another picture of a swollen-belly baby in Africa, were swollen right here in America and still dying from undernourishment of our souls.