Feeding More Than Hunger

There’s a phrase I heard once: “Give them what you have.” It has stayed with me because it’s so simple, yet it feels impossible when I’m stretched thin. What do I have to give when it feels like I’m running on empty?

I think about the times in my life when the need around me felt overwhelming. There’s this moment that still sticks with me from when I was starting 4th Dimension. People kept showing up, bringing with them their chaos, their pain, their need for a second chance—or sometimes just a safe place to land. I wanted to give them everything. But I also remember looking around at what I had and thinking, How is this ever going to be enough?

Someone told me once that it isn’t about having enough. It’s about offering what you have, even when it feels small or insignificant. That’s easy advice to give, but living it out is something else entirely.

I’ve had moments where I’ve looked at what’s in front of me and thought, This is ridiculous. Like the time I opened my fridge and realized the only thing I could offer someone was a sad half-jar of salsa and a loaf of bread that was maybe one day away from becoming a science experiment. Or when someone asked me to help with something big, and all I had was time and a little encouragement.

It’s in those moments when I feel like I have nothing that I remember a simple truth: it isn’t about me. I’m not the one who makes things enough. I’m just the one who shows up, does what I can, and lets grace fill in the gaps.

I once heard about a wise person who looked at an overwhelming situation and simply asked, “What do you have?” That question feels so grounded, so practical. It shifts the focus from what’s missing to what’s already there. And honestly, that’s where I’ve found the most surprising moments of grace—in the things I overlooked because they seemed too small.

I’ve also seen it in art. When I start a piece, I rarely feel like I have what I need to make it work. The colors seem off, the shapes don’t fit, and the whole thing feels like it’s going nowhere. But then I start working with what’s already there. I layer over the mistakes, find new connections, and let the process guide me. The beauty isn’t in having the perfect materials. It’s in trusting that what I have is enough to start.

There’s this story I think about often. A community came together to solve a problem. They didn’t have much, just some food, some hands willing to help, and the belief that something greater was possible. Somehow, what seemed like not enough turned into more than enough.

That story challenges me every time I think about it. How often do I hold back because I feel like what I have isn’t worth offering? How often do I let the fear of falling short stop me from stepping forward?

I’ve been trying to live differently. When I feel like I don’t have enough, I remind myself to offer what I do have. A little time, a little patience, a little hope. It doesn’t always feel like much, but it’s not about me. It’s about what happens when I let go of trying to make it enough and trust that grace will step in.

There are still moments when I hesitate, moments when I think, This can’t possibly work. But then I remember that it’s not my job to fix everything. My job is to show up, to offer what I have, and to let something bigger than me take care of the rest.

Maybe that’s enough. Actually, I think it’s more than enough.