I sat in the forest feeding thirteen deer. A Norman Rockwell type image. I don't allow them to eat out of my hand. I throw the kernels of corn toward the ground cover and other places of natural beauty. As I watching them eat I began to think, "I look like an old man feeding pigeons." In our personal lives who are we allowing through our hearts to feed our soul? Are we receiving things naturally or depending on another mans hand to buy comfort and security? What we never truly see is what's lurking behind the limbs stuck to the trees. Where we gather there's always going to be a beast. Someone or something that sits waiting for the perfect opportunity to take what has filled us and make it their own. Who is feeding your hunger? Is it the right hand? I talk with more people that are in the poorest of working conditions but do nothing to run into a deeper forest. They choose instead to eat from the palm of the old man. Let me ask "Where do you go and or grow with the supply of food held by the man runs dry?" Starvation makes many animals make bad decisions. A series of choices can lead you toward the limbs of the trees where lurking beasts await your weakness. How do you feed your hunger?