Daily Manna Gathering

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morning coffeeHad coffee with my friend, Katy.  While we shared the woes of mounting bills and diminishing funds, we talked about the daily manna or bread from heaven that the Isrealites were given in the desert. Katy reminded me that God opted for a daily provision. When the people tried to hoard enough for the week, or even for the next day, the food rotted. They didn’t like having to trust that God would come through for them tomorrow. I don’t like it either.

In fact, like the Israelites, I am often tempted to look back at “Egypt” and think it all looks pretty good in retrospect. Like the Egyptians, I sometimes find myself saying, “Yes, I was a slave, but I was a comfortable slave!”  I keep forgetting that God loves me too much to leave me in places where I have become too comfortable. And he loves me too much to let me remain a slave versus pushing me to embrace my own freedom.

Katy also reminded me that it is just as silly to look forward into the future and allow ourselves to get all amped up with anxiety.  She said, “Just lay out the bills and see which one is due today. Pay that one. For all you know, you’ll be dead tomorrow!”  She’s right. And then I will have spent my last day on earth worrying about a bill that I will never have to pay.

See…this is why we need honest friends. Thanks, Katy.

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10 responses »

  1. Don’t worry about what the manna is. What it is to one is not the same as to another. God knows your need and He will take care of you. I lean on the scripture, “I have never seen the righteous forsaken, nor His seed begging bread.” In other words, I have always had a roof over my head and I have never missed a meal. I trust in God daily and I read somewhere recently, “It’s not faith until faith is all you have.”

  2. This post touches me. I remember the guidance the Lord gave you when you made those decisions to leave Egypt. I know that you are on the right path, even though the way looks bleak at times. You are a woman of tremendous faith and humility. I draw strength from your words and experiences.

    • You’re sweet, JoDee, and I’m doing my best to do the daily manna gathering. But I’ll be honest. There are times when I lay awake at night and wonder if God is gonna bake another batch for tomorrow. Of course, he does. But each night the question is there, “Will he come through again?” This feels like practice.

  3. I don’t have the sources at hand but I remember reading that the manna may be flour made from dried mushrooms from the area. It was suggested that they were hallucinogenic and this created a very spiritual relationship with God similar to the peyote/mescaline use and practice in the religion of Native Americans in SW United States and Mexico. It was suggested that the spirituality was lost when the Israelites migrated from the mushroom rich area leading to a temporary loss of Covenant relationship with God. I offer no testament to the validity of the theory but offer it as an entertaining possibility. I personally don’t ascribe to the thinking that the manna was literally bread(pumpernickel or rye or whole wheat?) but that the manna was the spiritual strength offered by God to us in distressful times as you seem also to indicate.

    • Carl,
      It’s easy to get sidetracked, isn’t it, with speculations about what the manna actually was or wasn’t made of. The point is that the people had to trust that every day their needs would be met. More important, God proved to be willing and able. It is amazing to me how often this is a lesson I must relearn. Somehow, I think gratitude for the manna that I hold in my hands versus angst over what I will or will not have tomorrow is part of the lesson. Trust is such a lifelong lesson, isn’t it?

      • Yes you are right. Last several years I was sure of collapse with my condo association crumbling but every few weeks a blessing would arrive to pull us through and I was angry at my self for not trusting as you posit. I am unsure what to think about trusting to a degree. I would not want God to think I felt I was entitled to the blessings and expected them to drop in my lap all the time. I suppose that as long as we remain His people the blessings are given unconditionally and should not worry because I do not design the plan. I am not the driver. I am his passenger. And the ride will be safe.

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