Well, I’ve just finished reading the account of the Israelites who complained that they had no meat to eat. This wasn’t the first time I’d ever read this, of course. I’ve read this account multiple times and was taught it as a kid. Somehow, though, I never connected it to the way I behave. So many times I’ve read an Old Testament story and said to myself, “Wow. Total dummies. Glad I was born with a brain.” I now realize that I’d have made a fine Israelite. I’ve heard my kids do this as well. We’ll sit down at the table and one of them will say in a whiny tone, “I don’t have a drink.” I have no problem getting a kid a drink, but I have a problem with the way it is often stated. (Actually, truth be told…I’d rather them not drink, as it just promotes more time in the Powder Room, which usually requires some overt parental involvement…) Anyway. Back to how we say things. Why don’t I learn from this? So often we cry and complain before we just respectfully ask for something.
Simple. Polite. Unassuming. Humble. Here I am, wandering around looking for meat, when I could have just asked for some.
One thought on “Give me some meat.”
Never quite done this before. Can you hear me? Can you here me now? How about now?
I grew up also thinking the Isrealites were total whimps. It wasn’t until I read the actual passage of time that I gained more insight to their fussing. Weeks later, would I be fussy about real food for my kids? Uhmmm, yeah. like on the 2nd day. Water? Like on the 1st day. I am far more spoiled and wimpy than they were, apparently.