Yesterday morning my wife was out to breakfast with a friend. I was by myself. I fixed a bowl of cereal, sat at the dining room table, said my grace, and then looked at my bowl. The thought came to my mind, “how precious this is”. Strange thought over a simple bowl of cereal? Not really. I can’t take this simple breakfast meal fore granted as if it will always be there, or even worse that somehow this is my due. I am owed this food. All that I have is a gift of grace. Nothing really separates me from all of the emigrants who are wandering over Europe looking for a home, or those in war torn African countries loosing their lives. God doesn’t love me any more or them any less. Just why so many things are as they are is a mystery that will remain in God’s hands. Our sin has placed a great burden upon this planet that will only finally be made right when our Lord returns. Until then I will do what I can to relieve suffering, and never take my bowl of cereal fore granted.