On grumbling and gratitude

noticing the provision that's here right now

When I think
about the Israelites
receiving manna in the wilderness,
I often find myself thinking, 
Sheesh guys, why all the grumbling?
God has provided for you. 
He rescued you from slavery.
He parted the sea for you to walk through.
Isn't that enough?

But then my own thoughts 
race through my head
and halt me in my tracks.
I swallow slowly,
a lump in my throat. 
Don't I often grumble
when I have received more than enough?

Sometimes the thought that God provides 
above and beyond what we expect
makes me pray for more and more-
miracles even-
instead of gathering the bits in front of me
and seeing how they add up over a lifetime,
showing a God who is very much meeting my needs.
The Good Shepherd.

I want big, grand gestures
of provision and mercy.
A clean bill of health.
A diagnosis of "healed."
A successful insurance deal.
A job offer.
A relationship restored.

God, where are you?
I ask in the darkness of the night
or the stillness of the morning.
I ask and cry and pray 
when the ache in my heart wells up
to the point of bursting
with grief for what could have been
or what may not be.

Then.
The soft knocking on my heart.
A pause, a look outside at the sky,
a glance around my home,
at the pictures on the wall,
and the memories filling my head.

There is provision all around me.
A true companion-
my Husband. My dearest friend. 
Two sleeping boys.
Sisters. Parents.
One in Heaven, one very much here
whose presence is grace in the flesh.
A note from my dear Auntie.
Reminders of love and community.
Daily marco polo messages 
making me laugh and bringing me levity,
sanity and joy.
Coffee with a friend.
Kind faces at the library.
Neighbors who text to check in.
A thoughtful, thorough doctor.
Flexible work schedule.

All gifts that are not guaranteed.
Gifts I cannot-
should not-
take for granted.
Gifts that sustain me.
That nourish me.
That are enough.

Some have been dropped with a thud
in the lap of my life,
others are left softly like breadcrumbs,
leaving a trail to the hand
of a good, good Father.

Photo by Jackson Blackhurst on Unsplash.

This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Manna."