Daily Manna

I am often frustrated by the way my children seem to not hear me when I speak. They keep moving in the direction they've chosen as if I had been completely silent. Am I even here? Do I even exist? If a mom speaks in a forest of children and nobody responds, did she really even speak?

So many times I have to say, "Luke, stop what you're doing and listen to me." Or, I have to get on my knees and put Eli's face in my hands to get his attention. Even then I have to ask him, "Do you understand" and wait for, "Yes, ma'am" or I may as well have never gotten on my knees.

Lord, make me stop what I'm doing and listen. Take my face in your hands and don't let go until I answer you. Don't let me ignore you when you speak to me. You are the ONE in my day that matters most. I give my children and my husband, my family and friends NOTHING that matters more than you. I cannot give them You if I, myself, do not partake.

I'm dry, Lord. Absolutely parched. My soul thirsts for YOU. Why do I refuse to stop and drink? Nothing else will satisfy the unsatisfied places in my soul that I attempt to satiate with food, computer, reading, being busy. Nothing. The house being clean will not make me full. Getting my children in the bed will not give me rest. The restlessness and dissatisfaction I feel will only be remedied in your presence.

I complain about the "same-ness" of my day. Washing the same clothes. Kissing the same b00-boos. Correcting the same behavior. Cooking the same meals. Cleaning the same toilet. (On that note, I have three potty-trained boys in this house. I cut myself some slack about complaining in that area.) Picking up the same toys. Driving the same route to and from Luke's school. The same routine, the same little faces, the same, the same, the same...

The Israelites complained about the same, too. They despised the manna that you provided daily. It wasn't interesting enough, they said. They had just been delivered from slavery, and they complained. They were free but so unsatisfied. Sounds familiar.

"So He humbled you, allowed you to hunger and fed you with manna which you did not know nor did your fathers know, that He might make you know that man shall not live by bread alone; but man lives by every word that proceeds from the mouth of the Lord. Your garments did not wear out on you, nor did your foot swell these forty years." Deut. 8:3-4

Father, I choose this day to thank you for freedom. Thank you for manna. Thank you for our clothes. Thank you that I have the privilege of being the one who kisses my boys' boo-boos. Thank you that you give me the wisdom on how to correct their behavior. Thank you for food for our meals. Thank you for a working toilet and that I only have one boy in diapers! (And that one day they will be able to clean the toilet themselves!) Thank you for all the fun toys we have. Thank you for the car that takes us to and from Luke's school and that he is so happy to go there. Thank you for the stability in our home that allows the same routine. And, oh God! Thank you for the sweet little faces that are my joy and my treasure.

"When you have eaten and are full, then you shall bless the Lord your God for the good land which He has given you." Deut. 8:10