it's been a while since a winter hasn't found me surrounded by snow.
seems odd in a silly sort of way.
all around me i have been hearing snippets of snowfall sightings,
but nowhere close to here.
you can hear the excitement,
the wonder,
the joy
that a simple snowflake can bring.
and i can close my eyes and imagine the softness of swirling night air,
and it's enough...
almost.
today, i read of manna
and how it covered the hot, dusty desert ground in the cool of the night.
rested, along with the dew, to feed hungry bellies.
for 40 years, the night air swirled with bread from heaven
and for 40 years, those freed hebrew slaves gathered it up and ate.
i sat, pondering for a moment or two the sameness of it all.
40 years of manna,
being filled on a question
when i read...
the simplicity and singleness of the manna in the wilderness symbolized
the Christ Who was to come. When presenting Himself as the true Messiah
to the jews, Jesus clearly said, "I am the bread of life" (john 6:35). while the
manna of the wilderness could not provide eternal life, Christ did
and will to anyone who will receive it.
for 40 years the hebrews wandered,
but for 40 years, a glimpse of Christ swirled in the air around them in the quiet of the dark.
each morning as they gathered to fill, they unknowingly held in their hands a Shadow of Hope...
i think, of how the coming days can appear like that grass outside my door.
fear can make the moments ahead brittle and faded, as though the summer lush is only a distant memory.
but He whispered it, that promise...the hope of something new.
but He whispered it, that promise...the hope of something new.
and He, my Jesus, The One Who can make a way in the wilderness,
Who can makes streams flow in a desert,
Who can make the bread of heaven float down each morning...
He can cover each dry and dusty place,
each fear that trembles,
each sliver of hope brittle and faded...
and whether or not a winter snow falls in this place,
i am fully covered by His grace.
