Manna

(Warning: This blog contains content that will make mothers and mother-in-laws nervous.)

First of all, I overheard my husband say that good bloggers post everyday or every other day. How depressing. I aim for twice a week!

There have been many sermons during which the Christian body was compared to the children of Israel. The sermons were about the brave ~ "Be strong and courageous" ~ and how the itty bitty army had enough faith that the walls of Jericho fell. For the most part I don't usually identify with that generation of Israel. Their parents, the previous generation, the ones who were cursed to die off, wandering around the desert and never enjoy the promised land of God because they had no faith, yeah, them... that's my crew!

I'm not proud of the fact that I am a coward, but it's a fact nonetheless. Ask my friend, Laura. She wanted to know what my greatest fear of the upcoming year was, and without hesitation I said, "Fear of financial failure, that we won't be able to make it." That's my favorite fear of all times, rivaling that of motherhood. Well, you know what God says about fear? "Fear Me. I should be the biggest thing on your radar." And if He's not, He has a way of becoming so by being the only answer to the situation you feared would happen. I have heard zillions of people say, "My biggest fear is (fill in the blank), and now it's happening to me!!" I think that it's because God will not allow something so big, so controlling like enormous fear, become an idol in His children's lives. He refuses to compete. And before you know it, *poof*, you're lovingly placed smack dab in the middle of crap creek without a paddle, by His permissive will. Why? To work it out, and get fear in perspective.

That being said, I hate working it out. When I decided to be a SAHM (stay-at-home mom) I gave up the ability to contribute several thousand dollars a month to our household. Fortunately, Matt and I had been downsizing our lives for a few years, getting rid of a big truck payment (oh, how I miss the Tacoma!), settling into a little home with a little mortgage when originally we could afford more, just simplifying. But I don't think anything could quite prepare us for what living on one income would be like. How a lot of the time it's paycheck to paycheck, forget about making any real headway on your loans or debt to avoid interest. I am not complaining (well, okay, I'm whining a little bit), it could be much, much worse. But when my definition of "having enough" is "enough to go around with a lot left over", I find that things are tighter than I'd like.

That brings me to manna. That funky bread-ish type of food that was given each day to the wandering whiners in the desert (along with some quail for protein) for 40 years. It was enough. Each day there was provision, but here's the kicker-- it was only enough for that 24 hours. And that's where manna makes me crazy - "Doesn't God know I need a plan? Doesn't he know I need a nest egg? Relief?" This morning as I was getting out of the shower I thought, "What if God came back tomorrow? Wouldn't that be great? Then the debt and bills wouldn't be an issue! And we wouldn't have to worry about fixing the minivan, or paying the hospital for the delivery, and I will have had just what I needed for today!" Being off work for 8 weeks without pay has given Matt and I a chance to watch God provide, and He has... but looking ahead... will there still be manna? Or will we have to rely or our own means of providing, which just end up enslaving us more? And God says, "You want fear? Fear me." *poof*

And another thing, manna could not be stored. If the Israelites attempted to put it away for the next day it would rot, waste, go unused. One of my big boo-hoo's in the event of having a daughter (which I did) was, "I don't have any clothes for a girl!" I still have a huge stash of boys clothes, so many for Izak, that some went unworn and are in boxes and boxes of storage in the attic. Mmmm, manna. And then the inundation of beautiful clothes that I've received for Libby has been overwhelming. And sadly I look at a lot of these pieces and say, "What a waste that some will not even be worn." As I sat folding and hanging up the manna, I mean, clothes, Matt came home and found me stewing. I said, "At first I thought God was blessing us with all these clothes; now I think He's just being a smart a**!" We both had a good laugh. But it sounds like manna, doesn't it?

So, after I get done having a good cry from sheer frustration, I beg God for wisdom and stamina to make it through this hard time. Matt says that the financial need we experience makes us rely on God in a way we wouldn't if we were rich. There are some days I would take that check for a million bucks and not care two hoots about dependence on God for this kind of provision. Believe me, I can be bought for a price. God must know that, and loves me too darn much to lose me to easy living. So I get to wander a little bit more. Great.