Sometime when I was a young teen, my mother once said to me, “Don’t eat until you are full, just eat until you are not hungry.” It wasn’t a recurring theme or a conversation that we had many times, just a comment that she made to me in the midst of a teenage eating frenzy. Perhaps she only said it once. I’m not sure about that. But somehow the concept stuck with me.

Part of the reason it stuck is that I am not sure that I ever learned that distinction. I’m not convinced that I know the difference between being “not hungry” and being “full.” I’ve had a tendency to eat a bit more than I need for years. I have to eat very carefully and intentionally to avoid gaining weight. I need to keep aware of my weight and my eating every day or I start to move toward the unhealthy side of the scale very quickly.

I’m not complaining. As challenges go, this is not one of the big ones. There are plenty of people in the world who don’t have the luxury of access to enough food, let alone food in quantities that make them gain excess fat. There are plenty of people in the world who face health challenges far more difficult and far more severe than simply having to refrain from over eating. In the scheme of things, I don’t think I qualify as one of the people in the world who suffers.

But I have been thinking about my eating because I am trying to develop disciplines that result in a healthy lifestyle. My family and my community deserve for me to be a wise steward of my health. I want to make decisions that are in the best long term interests of my family. I want to serve the church faithfully for as many years as is practical. I don’t want my health to become a burden to others in so far as I have control over it.

I know that there is much in health that is beyond my control. I know that I will face illness and recovery in the future. I know that I will not live forever. But to the extent that I am given options, I plan to try to make healthy decisions where possible. Making wise choices about eating seems to be one place where I can exercise some control.

Although that particular quote about eating to overcome hunger, but not eating until one is full was not a common saying in our house, we did hear about hunger on a fairly frequent basis. Our parents talked about hunger when our church had special offerings to help those who were hungry. The coin boxes from church were put in the center of our kitchen table as a reminder. When we might balk at a particular food (“Do I have to eat my Brussels sprouts?”) we were often reminded that there were children in the world who go to bed hungry. We had an aunt and uncle who traveled in India when we were children and so whenever there was a famine anywhere close to India, it was treated as something closer to home than an event on the other side of the globe. Once, when I was in high school, we spent a couple of months disassembling a combine and crating the parts for shipment to the Philippines for use by a mission partner there as a stationary rice combine to help promote local food production in a community where hunger was common.

Somehow I grew up with the impression that hunger is a bad thing. It is something that has to be “fought” and “overcome” and “ended.” We would pray for an end to hunger on a regular basis, though I don’t think we ever truly went hungry as children.

Now, decades later, I think I have it a little bit wrong. Malnutrition is bad. Starvation is an inexcusable blight on a world of abundance. Our inability to share is an evil. But the sensation of hunger isn’t a bad thing. Hunger can be a signal from our bodies, just like pain, that we need to take certain actions. I don’t know why it took me so long, but I’ve finally learned that there are times when being hungry - such as before a special meal shared with family and friends - is a good thing.

I’ve known for decades that I like the sensation of anticipation. I enjoy the seasons of waiting and preparation - Advent and Lent - more than the seasons of fulfillment. Anticipation is a sweet sensation. It feels good. In small doses, hunger can be a form of anticipation of that which is yet to come. In that context, waiting a few minutes longer - and eating a little bit less - might even prolong the sensation.

Knowledge isn’t like food. When you acquire a little bit of knowledge, it is perfectly acceptable to be hungry for more. There is more knowledge and information than any one can consume, and it has a cumulative effect. The more you learn, the more you are able to learn. There is no such thing as learning too much or acquiring too much knowledge. And when you share knowledge, you don’t have any less. It is likely that if I spent more energy learning and less energy eating I would be better in several different aspects.

The problem, of course, is that I can eat and read at the same time, and I often do. I’ll grab a snack and sit down with a book. I’ll take the newspaper or a book to the table with me if I am eating alone. We often learn through the conversations around the dinner table.

And some lessons take a long time to learn. There are things that I and just now discovering that I wonder why it took me so long to get that information.

So, I’m going to share a bit of that information with you today: You don’t have to boil Brussels Sprouts. Roast them. Roasted Brussels Sprouts with a bit of cracked pepper taste good.

I wonder why I didn’t learn that bit of information earlier in my life.

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