Breathing Exodus 16 this week.
Coming to God one recent morning: Why is this still hard? I already prayed about it. You already gave me grace, and strength, and peace. What is wrong with me? Why do I need it again? I should have already learned this. Why can't I store it up?
If I was better... if I had more faith, if I had more trust, if I relied more on Your word, I would pray about this once (or maybe even twice, but certainly not these hundreds of times). I would not need to ask You again.
"Behold, I am about to rain bread from heaven for you... Gather of it, each of you, as much as you can eat... Moses said to them, "Let no one leave any of it till the morning." But they did not listen to Moses. Some left part of it till the morning, and it bred worms and stank... Morning by morning they gathered it."
They were called to sleep knowing, though they held no bread in their hands, that He would be faithful again tomorrow.
Written in my journal, as that connection was grudgingly made: "Would I feel as dependent on You, if I didn't need it new every morning?"
I get tired, of certain prayers, of certain pains. Doubtless much of this is laziness; but in part this frustration is driven by a real sense of shame- at my dearth of growth, my seeming inability to learn when He has already spoken to me patiently so many times.
Am I afraid of not honoring Him, in my neediness for His comfort, His help, every morning? But He calls me to come to Him needing His bread every day.
He calls me to trust that when I can't see what I'll eat tomorrow- what I'll rest on, what I'll be comforted by- He will be faithful to give again.
"In the morning you shall be filled with bread. Then you shall know that I am the Lord your God."
"In the morning dew lay around the camp. And when the dew had gone up, there was on the face of the wilderness a fine, flake-like thing, fine as frost on the ground. When the people of Israel saw it, they said to one another, 'What is it?' For they did not know what it was."
"This is what the Lord has commanded: 'Gather of it, each one of you, as much as he can eat... And the people of Israel did so. They gathered, some more, some less. But when they measured it, whoever gathered much had nothing left over, and whoever gathered little had no lack."
"Morning by morning they gathered it, each as much as he could eat; but when the sun grew hot, it melted."
"Now the house of Israel called its name manna. It was like coriander seed, white, and the taste of it was like wafers made with honey. "Let an omer of it be kept throughout your generations, so that they may see the bread with which I fed you in the wilderness.""
"Each family had just what it needed."
It always comes. It is always enough. And He is always glad to give it.
(Texted prayer I have saved from a sweet friend: "Lord, may you show Em how you love her in specific ways this week." Listing specific ways He has given me this 'manna' of knowing His active presence and His love just in the last couple of days, I actually lost count. Grateful.)