Who are we choosing to be?
If there’s a deep, underlying question during this 2020 season of craziness for me it has been that. And some days, I honestly couldn’t even assess myself on a scale of one to ten. Everything we’ve known has been called to the mat: relationships, hobbies, coping strategies, careers, education, beliefs, finances, temperament, voice…
The traditional Native-American story that asks which wolf are we feeding, the dark or the light, swirls through my mind semi-regularly.
And while circumstances and need has made me feel like I need to draw inward, to focus on me and my family and a small part of life I really have no control over, that is not what has given me life.
It’s been the manna.
In the ancient sacred text of the Bible, Israelites are wandering the desert. They’re hungry and all the normalcy they’ve known is gone (even if that was slavery). After they cry out, God sends manna, a sweet bread-like substance that appears daily.
But there’s a catch: most of the time, they can only gather what they need for one day. One day! That concept grates deeply against so many places within us…we save and plan and build with months and years in mind. One day? And in the desert where desperation peeks at the fringes of our minds and we crave security and peace…we get one day.
And yet manna, in a season of desert, is exactly what we need. One. Day. At. A. Time. My brain can’t reason or plan beyond that. It’s. The. Desert.
When I admit to that reality of a desert season, things slow down. Breathing readjusts. Expectations become fewer. I choose wiser goals. I see challenges, and more importantly people, more clearly. And small acts of kindness find their way into thankful hearts again.
Be it the student excited to see me at their job in the community, unexpected dinner ready-made, a text from a friend, a struggle with justice and beliefs, a small “aha” moment, a thoughtful decision from a boss, my kids’ smiles, or even the sparkly, ‘ain’t nothing going to stop my fashion’ mask…bits of joy pop into my day. Itty bitty bits of manna.
So be encouraged and look for your manna. You may only be able to gather enough for the next moment, but it will get you through your day.
We need each other. Kind, reciprocal relationships interrupt slogging through a desert and turn it into a wild adventure. And if we quiet our hearts enough, and allow for gratitude to pour through dry cracks of chaos, we may also remember that we are Beloved children not alone in the heat.
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