At 7:39 am on Sunday morning I’m sitting in the plaid chair in the corner of our den.
My eyes and throat are scratchy from a good cry the night before. After a week of early starts and hurt feelings and very public tantrums and new things and failure feelings, a stubbed toe and a broken dryer brought everything spilling out.
Across from me my two youngest niblets of people strum a play guitar with two strings, singing made up songs about morning and games and siblings.
At exactly 7:40 am, the sun just barely peeks over the building across the street and all of the sudden morning light streams bright and straight through our little house. Right from one end to the other.
“Mama! The air is green and yellow,” my girl exclaims with eyebrows sky high and brown eyes shimmer shining. It is and it settles on that one crooked frame and the scraps from handmade heart-shaped paper chains scattered across my grandmother’s fancy table.
Just the night before in my sniffly mess, through gritty entitled teeth and pumping fists, I had wondered aloud. “Do you think? Do you really think that on the 39th day the Israelites believed that manna was still miraculous?” My husband sat graciously taking it in. “No,” he said.
But it didn’t change anything. And it doesn’t change anything. Manna was still miracle. On the first day. On the last day. After months or after years, it’s still the same. Daily bread is still enough and still peck marked by grace and by power.
This is how change starts. How I can finally start to live like truth really is true. Letting grace lead me to see that even if it has been days or months or years, this daily living and waiting? It is still good and perfect and full of miracle and full of God’s unchanging and extravagant love.
Sweet, sweet words, friend. What a wonderful reminder that we should take what we have for our day. God knows our need, and He supplies.
Happy Sunday, and thank you for blessing me in your brokenness.
yep. brokenness. better to open it up then let it stew, right? i’m thankful it speaks to you!
It’s hard believer, right? But probably not. Just like wondering how Peter could deny Christ after walking with Him. But yes, manna is still a miracle on the first or last day. Our Father is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. It’s us who just can’t seem to stay on the path. Lift up your eyes. Joy comes in the morning…and unfortunately (sometimes), joy is a decision. So choose!
There was a day not too long ago that I remember sitting on my basement floor sobbing. Next to me was a broken washer full of dirty water and wet clothes. A culmination of frustrating events prevented me from getting up off the floor for at least a while. We’ve been there. thank you for your beautiful writing and post.
do you think we will ever be consistently content with our daily bread, this side of heaven? i am committed to trying because everything tastes sweeter with contentment.
oh, i hope so. but i have a feeling it’s a bit of layers of surrender. love you, friend.
i really love your words here. perfectly timed for me to remember as we enter year 4 of homeschooling…it’s so easy to fall into expecting routine to become monotonous instead of watching to see the miracle again and again. thank you. (so thankful to have found your space here.)
so thankful you found your way here, too! my prayers for a wonder filled homeschool year. i am cheering for you! and thank you for your kind words.
needed this.
Well, from one who’d rather eat Nutella than manna any day, I always need reminding that it’s all grace and all more than enough. Daily bread reminds us of daily grace if we’ll choose to see it. : )
And I FINALLY put you and your sweet new blog in my reader. No more missing out.
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