Sitting, knees to chin, I listened to one of the best story tellers I know rehears Abbaba's faithfulness.
She told story after story of his faithfulness, faithfulness to us, to her, to me.
Not to a ministry,a vocational evangelist, or even faithfulness in response to our faithfulness... as if
we are even capable of faithfulness.
I listened to my sweet momma's tender heart remembered fears, and doubts, and his continued
faithfulness through it all.
We talked about how like the Israelites we are to forget his faithfulness and demand manna.
Reading through Exodus, after that conversation, for the first time I felt anger.
Not anger towards the demanding Israelites, anger towards God.
I imaged momma's carrying screaming, hot babies through the desert, choking down the gritty
sand caking their dry mouths.
Wondering when anything substantial would next touch their lips.
Not just their mouth, but what would fill their rumbling babies bellies?
Thousands of mouths to feed.
"God where were you!" I charged in my anger.
"They must have been so afraid." I told him through tears.
My stomach turns thinking of the fears the Israelites had dancing in their heads wandering
though the wilderness.
Honestly, I at times, am more inclined to be on their side.
400 years of silence.
All of a sudden God, whom they hadn't heard from in generations, promises the much awaited
deliverance.
"but they did not listen to Moses because of their broken spirit and harsh slavery." Exodus 6:9
Hope through freedom had been deferred.
Plague after plague.
They had watched the Egyptian army encompass them.
Now they walked, seemingly aimlessly, through the wilderness.
They had just left a safe, well supplied portion of land to come to a barren place.
They had been promised a land flowing with milk and honey.
They had been promised rest and the presence of God.
But weary legs, carried empty stomachs, that supported fear ridden thoughts, fed only by the
whispers of worry.
How easily could their heart be joined to my heart in the all too familiar cry:
"You promised but it seems you've forgotten. Your presence, your victory was so tangible, palatable,
present but it seems that you have now forsake."
The Israelites didn't demand bigger, better!
They demanded life giving, promised substance.
We, I, often am not pushed to fear because God hasn't provided the things I want.
I am more often pushed to fear because God hasn't yet provided the things I perceive I need.
Did God deliver because they demanded?
No.
Does he deliverer because I demand?
No.
Abbaba has no need to be pinned to a wall.
We cannot barging goodness from him.
We cannot negotiate deliverance of or from something on our terms.
He remembers we are dust.
Unable to do anything but wither and die.
And because of his zealous love for his bride, his unwavering devotion to his righteous
glory, the above are not a safety net we need hold on to.
He is faithful.
Period.
The children of Israel were commanded to leave alters, "stones of remembrance"
When the children (those once hungry babies now all grown up and filled out, not starved or
shriveled up) once those kids notice the stones they would ask their parents.
"What's the big deal about that pile of rocks?"
The lips that had once demanded deliverance now speak in remembrance of the, of their provider.
That is what the purpose of this blog is.
Quick to forget and demand, these are my stories of manna.
These are my stones of remembrance.
Nothing fancy, like the story of the tabernacle:
Nothing of epic heroism like David or Esther:
Nothing as plot filled, edge of your seat, teeth clenching as the stories of Peter, Paul or John:
These are everyday stories of food and water.
But these stories, the victories provided by our Rock, will be stones of remembrance.
Hopefully you will share your stones too.
Because of our rehearsing and our remembering let Psalm 40:3 be true.
1 I waited patiently for the LORD;
he inclined to me and heard my cry.
2 He drew me up from the pit of destruction,
out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock,
making my steps secure.
3 He put a new song in my mouth,
a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear,
and put their trust in the LORD.
he inclined to me and heard my cry.
2 He drew me up from the pit of destruction,
out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock,
making my steps secure.
3 He put a new song in my mouth,
a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear,
and put their trust in the LORD.
.
