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eat the manna.

Emily Pullen


On three separate occasions this week I was reminded of when God provided the Israelites with daily manna from heaven after they ran out of food in the desert. With any sort of thematic repetition such as this, my tendency is to quickly chalk it up to coincidence and brush it off with a casual, "isn't that funny?" But when I stop long enough to attend to these points of connection, they often reveal truth, and more than likely one I'm not quite ready to sit with. Hence the need for repetition.

"Eat the manna. More will come." I read this week. This isn't just a platitude. It was and is promised truth. But not one I like. I don't want to trust that there will be enough manna for each day, I want to know that there will be enough for the next 5, 10, 15 years. But faith calls us to something higher, something beyond storing up our treasure where moth and rust destroy. This is not easy. Fear and worry over the unknown is palpable and real, but so is God and it has been my grace-filled experience that, as Sara Groves says, "He bends very low to care for us." So I will keep my gaze heavenward; praying, looking, and expecting the daily manna that knows nothing of indulging my excess but everything of supplying my need.