I need the everything of Jesus.
(Oh, really? Is that all?)
But really. I so desperately need all of him. I’m in this place where the grounds more than a little shifty & I’m never really sure when I’m going to fall into another pit, Crash Bandicoot style. I am an emotional wreck, coming undone at the coats sprawled over sofa arms, mounds of cups accumulated on night stands, drawers dropped and left directly in front of the toilet to be walked an arms-length away to the hamper. & the thing is, I know this isn’t really a battle against dishes and dirty laundry. This isn’t a battle against unkempt houses. This really has nothing to do with this. This is about that.
& that is a difficult, touchy situation.
That consists of my insides, being squeezed dry like a sponge.
Here’s the thing, love. Nobody ever said this was going to be easy. If anything, they promised hell. They told you it’d be a rough go of it & you’d have to choose love some days. Maybe even most days. But there is a prize through it all. There’s growth worth more than money can buy. & these days I whisper peace with Jesus’ name in the shower over and over and over again until I feel it in my lungs, these days are carrying things that will remind me of grace and newness in the next pit I fall into. Because life is full of pits, babe. Mountain tops & deep, drowning valleys. We’ve gottem all, love, & we won’t be in short supply. But we’ve also got manna.
So that’s what God’s been reminding me. That’s what’s been settling in my mind. That these days don’t always feel like they hold a lot of promise. That these days I won’t always know what they’re really for in this season, and I may not know until the next season. Or until years from now. Or never. I may never know what this day ever held for me that God would shove it into a life he claimed to be one of success & great plans. But I know there’s manna.
This manna that brought his people through wandering. When God told Moses each day the people were to go out & collect the manna he would rain down from heaven, he told them to collect only enough for each day, trusting that each morning dew would supply enough to last that day, & at the end of each day they were to throw away left overs. (Exodus 16)
& it’s a wonderful beckoning the Lord’s still whispering.
There’s enough manna for today.
Then I read the second day of my Kari Jobe reading plan on bible.com, & she spoke the same thing over me, resounding the message God’s drilling into me in this season. She referenced the story of the young man who went to Jesus to ask him what he needed to do to inherit eternal life. After rattling off a few things, the young man nodding his head in success, Jesus told him there was one thing left to do. Go sell all your possessions, give them to the poor, and then come follow me.
You see, it wasn’t that Jesus thought that his wealth or social status was bad or sinful. Jesus was trying to teach us all something far greater than that. Jesus wanted the man to come to a place where Christ was his sole desire and provider. Jesus wanted this young man to come to a place of where Christ filled every single void in his life. Though this man had wealth, Jesus was telling each of us that He offers something so infinitely greater than wealth.
Kari Jobe, Majestic Devotions
When it feels like we have nothing, wandering hopelessly like the Israelites, he’s simply asking us to depend on him. Lean into me, love. I want to care for you. I have enough for today, & that is something to be thankful for, if nothing else. Don’t be afraid to lose it all, to be stripped bare. When we have nothing, we have everything in Christ. There’s still enough manna for today.