I fell flat on my face sandboarding last week. This is a picture of my life right now.
We are currently living and serving in the sandy Trujillo, Peru. I’ve never lived in a desert before, so for you other non desert dwellers out there, allow me to inform you: Things don’t grow here, it’s dry, dirty, dusty, sandy, and brown, very brown.
I myself am feeling pretty deserty these days. Aside from my feet almost always being caked with sand, I’m feeling physically tired. I’m not always motivated to clean bird poop off the ground in our kitchen that doubles as a birdhouse or to wire electrical for a local ministry. Spiritually, I’m tired of not wanting to read the Word and feeling like I’m just going through the motions. Relationally, I’m tired of feeling stagnant and like it’s so crazy hard to love like Jesus did. I’m feeling dry and lifeless, just like the desert.
Last Friday I talked to Vanessa, our squad mentor, and as she listened to me recount my desert woes, she encouraged me to re-read the story of our good friends, the Israelites.
The Israelites did a whole lot of grumbling. Yep, I can relate. The Israelites did a lot of forgetting where the Lord had brought them from. Also, guilty. The Israelites did a lot of worrying, some of them so much that they tried to gather manna for tomorrow and woke up to a wormy breakfast. Unfortunately, I can also relate to this in more ways than one.
The Lord has been using the desert to teach and refine me in many ways, one of which has to do with manna. I don’t think it’s an accident that the first ministry I worked with here in Peru was called Mana (the Spanish word for manna). Vanessa calls it “not living off yesterday’s manna.” In other words, the Lord is asking me to rely on Him to satisfy my needs for today, and not to worry about tomorrow, or next month, or when I go home. “I will rain down bread from heaven for you.” – pause – That is a big deal.The Lord is doing something crazy and abnormal to take care of his people! – continue – “The people are to go out each day and gather enough for that day,” (Exodus 16:4). Okay, so this promise comes with one piece of instruction, just gather enough for today. So many times I catch myself a manna hoarder. I worry about what is to come instead of treasuring today. I think about the overwhelming amount of children I have the opportunity to interact with in these next few months and how it’s getting hard to remember their names, let alone their stories. I brainstorm ideas for when I get back to the States, which is really just secret code for dreaming about what I will order at Chick-Fil-A (which if you’re curious, the current battle is between nuggets or the wrap, with waffle fries and a Peppermint milkshake, of course). I try to save up today’s manna for tomorrow, and end up with a wormy breakfast.
Another recent refining moment I had with our grumpy Israelite friends comes from Exodus 15:22-27, just before the manna adventure. The Israelites were grumbling through the desert, only this time they were thirsty. And with good reason, the poor people had not had a drop of water for three entire days. Moses pleaded with God on behalf of his people and they came upon a body of water…that they couldn’t drink because it was too bitter. The story reads, “Then Moses cried out to the Lord and the Lord showed him a piece of wood,” (Ex. 15:25). If I were Moses I would have been thinking something like, “Excuse me God, I don’t know if you realized but these people are thirsty! What’s with the piece of wood?” However, “He threw it into the water, and the water became sweet,” (Ex. 15:25). Huh? The Lord wanted Moses to listen to Him and pay attention even in the midst of great frustration and great need. Thus, even when I am hungry for anything but tuna, when I am covered in sand thanks to my new kid friend, when I am stressed trying to coordinate with all the different ministries and their various schedules, those are the moments when God is showing me the piece of wood. He’s taking me on a great adventure of faith with Him instead of simply making the bitter water sweet. He’s asking me to look away from my circumstances and to look to Him. He’s reminding me to pick up enough manna for today, that He’s the God who provides, the God who keeps His promises. He’s asking me to look for the non-conventional ways He’s at work, to recognize the pieces of wood around me – like when I’m so angry at our blender for not working I storm over to the orphanage director’s house to ask to use her blender and she ends up sharing her story with me and God gives me the opportunity to speak life and encouragement into her.
My soul is slowly starting to feel less sandy as I learn to thank the Lord for manna. I thank him for sweet times of growth and friendship with my team around the dinner table. I thank him for the ministries we have been able to work with this month and for the amazing directors who run them. I thank him for despedida (goodbye) dinners and long hikes that end in Spanglish devotionals at the top. I thank him for Lomo Saltado – a Peruvian dish of rice, veggies, beef and French fries, covered in the one and only ahí salsa – and for Claudia who taught us how to make it. I thank him for friendships that stretch across cultural borders and allow us to stand shoulder to shoulder and pray for miracles together. I thank him for some of the sweetest nuggets in the universe and for space and time to engage with His dear children.
Thank you Lord for throwing me pieces of wood, and for the manna of today. Thanks for allowing me to fall flat on my face in the desert in order to be drawn into deeper relationship with you.
