Blinded by Manna

I fall asleep to the sound of rain, muffled by the roof over our head which keeps us warm for the night.  I love the rain, but that's because I have the luxury of observing it from safety and shelter.  Others don't have this.

I wake up to the sound of birds enjoying the fresh, sun streaked morning, singing their song for whoever chooses to listen. I pull the covers close to my head and nestle into the silky sheets we received as a wedding gift. I could sleep in, but I choose to wake up.

As I get ready, I mentally browse through my breakfast options as one browses the internet, with little haste and no sense of urgency.  Aimlessly, really.  Eggs?  Smoothie?  Cereal?  Oatmeal? Which cereal? Shredded Wheat?  Cheerios? It doesn't really matter.  Whatever I choose, I'll walk out of my one-bedroom apartment, ideally situated close to Old Towne (the "e" is silent) Orange with no sense of hunger.

I enter my closet, pull open the drawer and grab the first shirt off the top of the pile.  It's one I wear often, as I don't take the time to search through the shirts at the bottom of the drawer.  Besides, my favorite shirts are always at the top.  That's why they're there.  Duh.

I put on my new pair of khakis, pants I didn't really need, but I had tried them on at Old Navy and I thought I looked pretty good.  Especially when I wear it with my black North Face Jacket.  I think it makes me look part adventurer, part worker, part down-to-earth guy, an image I'd love to convey.

I open up the refrigerator to make myself lunch for the day when I realize that we've left our lunch supplies at church.  I could grab a few slices of bread to make a sandwich with the meat and cheese we have.  Or I could use the new Trader Joe gift cards we have to buy myself something for lunch.  I choose the latter.  I'll always have sandwiches.  I won't always have TJ gift cards.

After arriving at church, I sit down at my desk, surrounded by piles of papers and books, some of which have felt very neglected as of late.  I grab my Bible and open to Exodus 17, the story of God's provision of manna for the Israelites.

It's amazing really.  They wake up each morning and food is there for them, lying on the ground, waiting to be collected, like a fresh blanket of snow.  As each family gathers food, they find that there is always enough for each day, never more, never less.

They did this for 40 years.  Each day, waking up to a fresh blanket of food covering the ground, just enough for each day.  I wonder if they ever took it for granted?  Or was each day as exciting as the first?  Did there come a point in time, after they had gone through their "365 Ways to Cook Manna" cookbook a few times, they were, dare I say it, ungrateful?  It sure did.  Numbers 11 documents their desire for a little meat to go with their manna.

Those silly Israelites.  If only their hearts weren't so hardened.  If only they didn't try to gather more than they needed.  If only they were truly grateful for the things God had given them.  If I had lived through the wilderness wandering, I'm sure I would have been grateful.

I best be going.  I've got a dinner to make.  Or maybe we'll eat out.  We don't really have much good food to eat anyway.