We are only eleven hours into the Hunger Challenge and I am finding it…challenging. And the thing is, 50% of the world would find the variety of food available in my ‘challenge’ to be a smorgasboard of choices! Breakfast: oatmeal (made with clean water!) No blueberries. No sift of sugar. No splash of skim milk. Oatmeal. I am sorry to say I felt a bit grumpy at the thought of plain oatmeal. I thought it would taste blah. And I was right.

As I combed my kitchen cabinets to find the oats, the over abundance of choices available to me visually spilled in every direction. Olive oil (super-sized Sam’s Club variety); pudding & jello boxes in a rainbow of flavors (from a not so distant bout with flu); 3 kinds of dry cereal; spices galore; granola bars; sugar; flour; crackers, however many kinds of pasta; soups; mixes for this, that and the other; black beans, chili beans, navy beans. The list goes on. At the back of the top cabinet I found the oatmeal. I proceeded to make it with clear, clean tap water in my small pan on top of my smooth-top range that boils water in a New York minute. Then I ate it out of my lovely, white bisque bowl that had been sanitized to the enth degree in my high powered, oh-so- quiet GE dishwasher. I washed down my multi vitamin, calcium (with vitamin K) and potassium with tepid, clear tap water that hadn’t been filtered through my Brita pitcher. Ewww! Breakfast was over.

As I left the kitchen to head upstairs to finish getting ready for work, I flipped the kitchen light off and noticed the scattered change my husband had left on the desk from the day before. I scooped it up to place in the jar upstairs, wondering what this .87 cents would buy in an impoverished country. The sermon Ron Cline, Ambassador for HCJB World Radio, preached 11/08/09 stated the following convicting stats:

· .08 cents/day puts a radio in every home across Africa

· .18 cents/day puts a Bible in China every ten days

· .25 cents/day makes possible pure water in a village in Africa

· $1/day feeds and cares for an entire family of a martyred Christian in China

Once upstairs, the mound in the jar grew as the coins clinked against pocket change from days gone by. I hoped the change in my privileged heart was growing just as quickly. As I write this, it is time to head home for my lunch of rice and beans. As I go, I wonder how much change I might garner from the bottom of my purse today? Change makes change happen…in more ways than one.

-Anonymous