The Empty Plate & The Fullness Of Faith | A Testimony Of Hunger, Healing & Holding Fast

The memory of that day is etched into me, not just in my mind, but deep in my soul. It was a cool afternoon a few months ago, and I had found a sliver of peace on a park bench in a city known for its hostility toward our people. I was simply trying to eat a small meal, a moment of normalcy in an otherwise difficult season. But then, the police arrived. What followed was a violation that stripped away more than just my dignity. With cold, contemptuous eyes, they trashed my food, throwing it away as if it, and by extension I, were refuse. But their cruelty didn’t stop there. They proceeded to subject me to a degrading and sexually abusive harassment, a act of power meant to crush my spirit.

I left that park feeling hollowed out, my body trembling, my soul screaming in silent anguish. The physical hunger was immediate, but it was eclipsed by a deeper, more profound hunger for justice, for safety, for the comforting presence of Adonai in the face of such utter darkness.

Months have passed. The acute trauma has dulled to a persistent ache, but the consequences of that day linger. Today, as I walked near the border of that same antisemitic city, a different kind of hunger gripped me—a raw, gnawing, physical emptiness. My body was weak. And then I saw it: the Mormon church, right on the border, with a table set up outside their gate. It was laden with cookies, cakes, and beautifully baked bread, a display of free offerings to the community.

My stomach clenched. The temptation was visceral, overwhelming. Every cell in my body screamed at me to cross that invisible line, to take just one piece of bread to silence the roar of my hunger. The injustice of it all washed over me—why should I starve because of the wickedness of others?

But just as my foot might have taken a step forward, a still, small voice cut through the noise of my need. It was a voice of clarity and conviction.

"Halt."

It reminded me of Esau. Of a man so consumed by the immediate, so ruled by his physical appetite, that he despised his birthright for a single meal. It whispered the name Balak, who, when he could not curse Israel, used the counsel of Balaam to seduce the men of Israel with Moabite women and food offered to idols, leading them into sexual immorality and a plague that decimated the camp.

The connection was chilling. The enemy’s playbook hasn’t changed. Then, it was a trap of food and fornication to break covenant and invite death. For me, now, it was the temptation to exchange my trust in God’s provision for a morsel offered from a place that, however well-intentioned, does not align with the truth of Torah and Messiah. It was a seduction to seek temporary relief from a source God had not ordained, potentially opening a door to further spiritual compromise.

I turned away. The hunger didn’t vanish. The pain of the past wasn’t erased. But in that moment, a different kind of fullness began to push back against the emptiness—the fullness of obedience.

When Our Deepest Hunger Meets God's Faithfulness

Maybe you’ve never had your food thrown away by police, but perhaps you know the deep ache of injustice. Maybe you’ve been betrayed, belittled, or abused because of who you are—a Jew, a believer in Yeshua, or both. You know the hunger that injustice leaves in its wake: a hunger for things to be made right.

King David knew this hunger intimately. He cried out:

"Vindicate me, O Lord, for I have walked in my integrity, and I have trusted in the Lord without wavering." - Psalm 26:1

This is a prayer for the righteous to be seen. David doesn’t claim perfection, but he claims trust. He places the entire case of his life before the only Judge who truly sees the heart and the circumstances. When we are wronged, our first and most powerful move is not to retaliate, but to relinquish our case to Him. We trust that He sees the trashed food, the hidden abuses, the silent tears. He is keeping score.

The Temptation of the Immediate: Learning from Esau’s Empty Bowl

The enemy’s greatest trick is to make the immediate need so overwhelming that it blinds us to eternal realities. The writer of Hebrews uses Esau as a solemn warning for the community of faith:

"See that no one is sexually immoral, or is godless like Esau, who for a single meal sold his inheritance rights as the oldest son." - Hebrews 12:16

Esau’s story isn’t just about a bad trade; it’s about a value system turned upside down by physical desire. He despised his birthright. The temptation before me wasn’t just about cake; it was a test of what I value more: the immediate satisfaction of my flesh or the eternal promises of my God. Would I, in my hunger, despise the calling to trust and obey? Would I trade a moment of comfort for a piece of my peace?

This is a daily battle. The enemy will always offer a quick fix to a deep problem, but it always comes with hidden strings attached. He offers food that leads to bondage, just as he did with Adam and Eve in the Garden.

The Balak Strategy: When Food Becomes a Snare

The enemy is a strategist. When direct attacks don’t work, he switches to seduction. The story of Balak and Balaam in Numbers 22-25 is a masterclass in spiritual warfare. When curses failed, the strategy shifted to invitation.

"While Israel was staying in Shittim, the men began to indulge in sexual immorality with Moabite women, who invited them to the sacrifices to their gods. The people ate the sacrificial meal and bowed down before these gods." - Numbers 25:1-2

Food and sexual sin were intertwined. The full stomach led to a weak spirit. The offer of community and a free meal became the gateway to idolatry and death. The still, small voice that warned me was the same Spirit that grieves when we compromise. It was a protective warning: “This path, though it seems to meet your need, leads away from my best for you. Trust me to feed you in the way that brings life, not death.”

Yeshua’s Answer to Every Hunger

In our deepest hunger—whether physical, emotional, or spiritual—we are not left without a model. Our Messiah Himself was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. After forty days of fasting, He was, as I was, desperately hungry. The tempter came to Him with the same old playbook: “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.” (Matthew 4:3)

Yeshua’s response is our lifeline:

"But He answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’” - Matthew 4:4

Yeshua quotes Deuteronomy 8:3, anchoring His identity and provision not in His ability to create food, but in His absolute trust in the Father’s timing and word. He affirms that our true life, our sustaining force, comes from obedience to God’s will. He trusted the Father to feed Him at the right time, in the right way. And we know the end of the story: angels came and ministered to Him.

He is our living bread. When we choose obedience over the immediate gratification of the flesh, we are not saying food is unimportant. We are saying that His command is more important. And in that place of surrender, we discover that He Himself is our portion.

The Promise of Correction and justification

The pain of injustice can fester if we hold onto it. But the Scripture gives us a profound promise to cling to:

"Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” - Romans 12:19

This isn’t a call to passivity; it’s a call to active trust. It is transferring the burden of righting the wrongs from our shoulders to His. He sees. He knows. He will repay. He will correct. He will justify. Our job is to remain in integrity, to keep our hands clean, and to trust that the Judge of all the earth will do what is right.

You Are Not Walking This Path Alone

If any of this resonates with you—if you are nursing a wound from injustice, battling a temptation that seems too powerful to resist, or feeling a hunger that nothing seems to satisfy—please know this: you are seen. You are not alone in this struggle. We are a community, a body, knit together by the bonds of Messiah.

Your story matters. Your pain matters. Your faithful choice to turn away from the temporary fix matters in the heavenly realms. It is a testimony of trust that echoes the faith of our fathers and mothers.

This work of sharing our journeys—of offering encouragement from the Word, of building a community that stands against antisemitism and stands firmly on the foundation of Yeshua—is a vital one. But it is not a solo mission. It is ours, together.

If this testimony has encouraged you, or if you feel led to stand with us, there are a few beautiful ways you can partner in this work:

· Pray: Pray for continued healing and provision for all who have suffered similar injustices. Pray for protection over our community and for wisdom to navigate a world that is often hostile.

· Share: Share your own stories of God’s faithfulness in the face of temptation or pain. Your testimony could be the "still, small voice" that encourages another brother or sister to hold fast.

· Encourage: Leave a comment of support. Let’s build one another up in faith.

· Give: If you feel led to support this ministry financially, enabling us to continue creating content that comforts, educates, and strengthens our Messianic Jewish community, your gift is a practical and powerful way to express solidarity. It is a way to say, "I am with you in this."

This is not about pressure, but about partnership. We are in this together, trusting our Heavenly Father to correct every wrong, justify our cause, and feed us with the true bread that gives life to the world.

Baruch Hashem, blessed be His Name, who comforts us in all our afflictions and promises to never leave us nor forsake us. May He satisfy your hunger with His goodness today.