limited

Today I probably should have stayed in bed. But people needed to be seen, miles had to be driven, and a church seat had to be filled. So I summoned the strength to get up while my sinuses, my nose, my throat, my head, and my body in general screamed at me to stay down.

I spent most of the day in the car, thinking or singing or talking with people. It’s one of those desperate days, those days you just can’t do it without Him. Though these days I’m sure are precious to Him, I just wish I was easily joyful like I had been a few weeks ago. The joy is still there, but it’s not a giggly, happy, smiley joy. It’s one of hope and trust. One of choosing to be ok, choosing to let, choosing to believe.

I’m reading more about the children of Israel, and I’ve been thinking about manna lately. How God fed His children while they were in the desert was beautifully miraculous. Every morning, a miracle of this bread-like food was sitting on the ground as their breakfast. Every evening, quails “covered the camp” (whatever that means..) as their dinner. Ladies and gentlemen, that’s two miracles. Every day. To feed and satisfy His children. And in the next chapter, He provides water not from a river or body of water. But from a rock. I love manna because God created manna especially for them. To sustain them. I’m guessing this manna had more nutrients than normal bread in order to nourish them.

But they had to trust Him day by day for this nourishment. He only gave them enough for that day. And they just had to trust that it would be there the next.

And the manna was there the next day. And the next day. And the next day. Without fail.

And they still complained and didn’t trust Him.

I am disappointed as I shut my Bible. I am too much like the Israelites in that aspect. I compare myself with others, I wish I was somewhere else, I complain, I beg God for nourishment when I know that manna will be there when I wake up.

It’s this dang desert. It’s getting to me.

I’ll get up every day, I’m going to make myself. I’ll wake up and blow my stuffy nose and gather my daily manna from Him. That He set out for me. That will sustain me.

For today.

And maybe tomorrow won’t be a happy, giggly, funny day like some of the days I’ve had.

But I’ll praise Him for the miracle of my manna.

Because it will be there when I wake up, I just know it.