Manna from Heaven

When God rained down food from heaven for the starving Israelites, they asked, ‘What is it?’ and called it manna.  God’s fresh provisions for His people stood as a sign of God seeing and caring.

Years later, those closest to Jesus boldly and desperately questioned if He cared.  Jesus slept soundly in a boat with His disciples as waves nearly swamped their vessel.  His disciples woke Him up and asked, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” (Mark 4:38).  In response, Jesus not only kept the boat from overturning, but He calmed the entire sea.  

And then there was Martha, overwhelmed by an internal storm of frustration as she made all of her preparations for houseguests alone, without the help of her apparently capable sister.  She equally pleaded to Jesus, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself?” (Luke 10:40).  Jesus responded by freeing her from her stress.  In contrast to society’s hierarchy of obligations, His expectations were simple.

When Jesus taught multitudes on the hillside, He miraculously provided food from five loaves of bread and two fish for over 5,000 people because He saw that the people were hungry in a remote place.  Jesus reminded the people that God provides for us physically and spiritually.  He explained, “Your forefathers ate the manna in the desert, yet they died.  But here is the bread that comes down from heaven, which a man may eat and not die.  I am the living bread that came down from heaven” (John 6:49-51).

Throughout history, God has tangibly provided for His people’s physical and spiritual needs in unexpected ways.  And He still does.  My kids know the story of God giving me my favorite tea.  At one point when our family was tight financially, I thought hard over every purchase we made.  I remember standing in Publix holding a peppermint tea box, thinking of whether it was what we needed or if it was just my want.  I put it back for something more sensible.  A day later, I sat at a new friend’s kitchen table.  She asked if I liked tea and pulled out a box of the same brand of peppermint tea I had held the day before.  She said she had tried it and really didn’t like it—would I want it?  I hadn’t asked God for tea in prayer, nor had I complained to Him that I didn’t feel like I should buy it.  But there in my hands was a love note—a heavenly provision which came in an unexpected way.

Lately, my 'manna' has come in the form of people—friends and family offering rides for our kids, lending books with timely messages, calling to catch up, and writing encouraging words for my soul.  God provides what we most need for our bodies—and spirits.  I’m starting to look, and to take note each day of God’s manna-provisions for me and my family.  As my son received a welcomed rest from sports practices because of snow in April, I narrated for him how God was providing exactly what he needed—rest for his sore legs—in a way he least expected.

Just like the Israelites wandering in the desert, just like those seeking to hear Jesus teach when He fed over 5,000 people, just like Jesus' disciples in an overwhelming storm, and just like Martha struggling alone in her sea of stress, we sometimes wonder if God sees and cares.

Yes, God does see and He does care when we think no one else does.  Sometimes we get to catch a glimpse of His care through His loving provisions that come at just the right time.

And yet, after continually and so faithfully providing for us, could He just as sincerely ask us, Do you see, Do you care about all the heavenly-sent blessings you receive?

My prayer is that God will help me daily to see and be gratefully aware of His fresh provisions that often come in unexpected ways--my 'manna' from heaven.

Being Transformed into His Likeness

II Corinthians 3:18, “We all…are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord…”

μεταμορφοὐμεθα—To transform, to change the inward reality to something else.

Do you think a caterpillar has any idea of what it will one day become?

I wonder what a caterpillar, if it had higher order thinking skills, would contemplate all day long?  What would fill its thoughts—the immediate surroundings of dirt and sticks…leaves and more leaves…predators and survival?  Does it have any idea that one day it will feel the loft of wind under its wings, dance among flowers, and astound people with its beauty?  Does it know that it will be transformed?

Would it make a difference?

Honestly, for the caterpillar, I don’t think it would.  I think a caterpillar’s hunger compels it to faithfully eat and eat until its time to form its chrysalis, regardless of any existential awareness. Its formidable appetite is an integral part of its inner transformation process.  Can you imagine what would happen if caterpillars demanded to know the end plan before they ate another bite? 

We’re quite different than caterpillars—in most ways.  We do think about our surroundings—the stacks of clothes to fold, bills to pay, obligations to meet, children to guide, marriages to nurture…along with the predators of illness, age, and violence.

But, like the caterpillar, perhaps God is also transforming us in the midst of our circumstances—to be more like Christ.  Perhaps our circumstances around us are exactly what we need for our transformation into His likeness.  Even the mundane, the fear-producing, and the overwhelming.

As God’s image bearers, we do think about the future and we want to know the bigger picture of God’s plan.  What’s the purpose of all our struggles?  Paul writes in II Corinthians 4:17, “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.”  This is what Paul encourages the early Christians to focus their attention upon.  “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (verse 18).

Knowing how our future compares to our present puts our day-to-day troubles into perspective.  We can walk in the certainty that while we are daily being transformed into greater Christlikeness, we will also be eternally transformed.  One day we will no longer plod through a world of sin and conflict, but we will experience an eternal glory that far outweighs it all.

Perhaps caterpillars do know that they will transform into a beautiful butterfly and that’s why they eat with such fervency.  Maybe they know that living their caterpillar stage of development well contributes to their inner transformation.  

Do we know that we are being transformed?  Are we living this season of our lives well--with grace, compassion, faith, and kindness?

I wonder if butterflies cross our paths to remind us that God is in the transformation business—bringing beauty from the overlooked, building strength from our struggles, and weaving His glory into our present and our futures.  If God can change a caterpillar into a butterfly, how much more gloriously will He transform those who love Him?

Does God Honor The "Want To's"?

I hope God honor’s the “want to’s.”

There’s many a morning that I want to get up and sequester myself with my Bible and a cup of tea and watch the sunrise in the presence of the Son. But instead, I run the gauntlet for two hours of getting four kiddos up, dressed, fed and hopefully out the door on time to catch the bus.  (The hopeful part comes into play that if someone has a bad hair day we can be running late and we have a new bus driver who seems to come earlier and earlier each morning. The combination makes for me typically driving the younger three to school frequently!)

Or when I’m sitting in church with our four peeps spread between us, my husband and I sit as bookends between their stair step heads. I really want to listen intently and take notes and follow all the Bible verses word by word. But instead, I share my pens, rip out precious journal pages to occupy busy hands and attempt peace keeping between dueling brothers in the middle of the supposed sanctuary.  Worshipful it is not when bringing kids into church.

Or on the holidays, I genuinely want to spend time curled up next to our glowing Christmas tree reflecting on Jesus’s arrival as the light of the world, but instead I’m usually up late doing last minute online shopping or wrapping gifts to put under said tree or I’m list making and checking it twice or cooking. The older I get the more I realize, it really is the women who make the production of the holidays happen.

And so, too, with age, I think should come maturity.  But why is it that the older I get and the older my kids get the less disciplined I’m becoming as a disciple?

I used to be able to be fully present - at church, the whole season of Advent, on vacation, out in God’s creation or even just chatting with a friend. But with children comes life lived in small doses. Bite sized self-satisfaction.  Nuggets. Just enough to tease and tempt but never truly satisfy your hunger. Just when you’re about to get caught up in the moment - of prayer, Bible study, or even just being still, the moment is interrupted.

The struggle of living life as a Martha - busy and distracted is the life I've come to accept as part of the job description of motherhood. But in my heart, I'm always  longing for Mary Moments. To be able to be fully present, and allow yourself to step away from the to-do’s of the day and instead sit at Jesus’ feet and be fully enveloped in His presence.  

I hope that God honor’s the “Want To’s” of life. I know that He looks at the heart, while others only judge us by our actions. Does that mean He knows my “want to’s”?

But he challenged Martha all those years ago that she was busy and distracted with her seemingly unnecessary actions in the kitchen while her sister Mary had chosen what was better.  Did he understand that Martha probably really wanted to join her sister in the room sitting at His feet, too?  

Does God honor the Want To’s?  

I sure hope He does, but I’m not completely convinced that He does. Just as I desire full obedience from my children, an excuse of “I really wanted to…” might work occasionally, but not daily. So too, I think God understands the demands of motherhood, and extends grace, but if I really want to continue to grow in my faith, I think I need to work to turn my want to’s into action.