Something Needed at the Right Time

I picked up a new book recently called "Manna", referring to the food that God provided out of nowhere when the Hebrews had left their slavery in Egypt and were heading back to their "promised land" and site of our modern Israel. The term has come to mean something critical provided in timely fashion.

Our second little princess-granddaughter is due to arrive in about 2 months. Her siblings have come early, so we'll see if she waits or not. Her arrival is more unnerving because one of the tests doctors routinely give for pregnancy has left us all in the wake of uncertainty. The health we assume with most pregnancies is suddenly in question. And the greater question is not how will she do, but how will we do?

It relieves me to hear my kids voicing their fears. Lets me know they are normal, they aren't withdrawing from reality. It also guides my prayer and concern for them.

I opened this "Manna" book yesterday, finally ready to lay myself open to thought, and to direction. I need some "manna". I need something critical provided in a timely fashion. I need to know that God will supply whatever my kids need to face whenever they have to face it. I need to relinquish my need to rescue them, to the God who actually does the healing, who knows what is needed, by whom, and at what point. And I need the timing of One who will allow the spiritual exercise and growth of faith before intervening. I've often seen parents who rescue earlier than I thought wise -- Huh! Bet God chuckles at seeing me do it too.

I'm making my way through this lesson, tears streaking down my face as I identify. I know what it is to be numb, to feel forgotten, to question my importance to God. I have felt dried up with no energy to make me disappear. But I've also seen tough times pass, with the sweet breezes of energy returning. I saw it in myself when I saw the love pass between the eyes of my daughters and sons-in-law. I've felt it as I've seen grievances forgotten between friends. And I've believed it as I've seen strangers listen and love me in my pains. We often need a body to hug, not just a hope. And God provides whatever we need.

So I keep on. Fifty years ago my parents sang a song together, "I Don't Know About Tomorrow". Still true. Economy, health, kids, govenment, weather. I keep on because the Giver of all good things is still giving. Still loving, still caring. As the author of this book phrased it, I want my safety to not be determined by my ability but by God's.

I'm going to be OK. So are my kids. So are my grandkids. I'm trusting God, reminding him, trusting him, reminding him. He won't forget, but I need the constant entrustment. All is safe and all is well.