Lean In

Tragedy struck our family last week.  Our church family.  A dear friend, an intercessor, a pillar in the church lost her only son on Wednesday.  He was a husband and a father and a brand new grandfather.  I missed a week of writing before spring break.  Then last week this loss engulfed me, and I just had no words.  

Sunday this brave soul brought her grandson to church with her.  I watched as the body of Christ surrounded them with love and prayers and tears.  And it touched my heart.  When one part of the body hurts, we all hurt.  The words my husband said from the pulpit.  We all felt it, but it needed to be said.  We all needed to share in their grief.  To stop for a few minutes and wrap our arms around them.  I learned a long time ago that most words don’t mean much in deep grief.  Except the ones that say, “I am with you.”  The ones that say, “You are not forgotten.”  No one can walk your broken road for you.  But they can remind you that you are seen.  Seen by them.  And ultimately seen by God.  The One who says our tears are precious to HIm.

The message that morning was about Caleb in the Old Testament and how he was delayed in entering the promised land by those who brought back a negative report.  He was delayed for 40 years because of other people’s sin, but he did not get bitter.  He was delayed but not disqualified.  Caleb endured his desert season and eventually walked into victory.  

Then something in the message jumped out at me.  It wasn’t a main point, but it was a truth that was there glimmering like a bit of gold dust hidden in the words.  The manna that God provided to the Israelites duing the 40 years they were in the desert stopped falling when they crossed the Jordan river into the promised land.  Joshua 5:12 says that no manna appeared on the first day that they ate from the crops of the land, and it was never seen again.  Once the Israelites left the desert, they had to plant and harvest and work for their provision.  But not while they were in the desert.

Do you see it?  The message of His grace?  There is a special grace, a provision from heaven, a mercy, a tenderness that God surrounds us with when we are in a desert season.  It’s a special provision that we only receive when we are walking through hard times.  A supernatural sustaining that He gives to us when we are in that dusty, scorching place that feels like death.  The manna fell every morning and would rot if you tried to keep it overnight.  Just like when we are in grief.  We can only manage one day at a time.  And that is exactly how His sustaining grace is measured to us in those hard moments.  One day at a time.  It is there for the taking every morning.  He literally feeds us when we cannot feed ourselves.

God does not expect us to be superheroes in the desert.  He longs for us to lean in to Him.  To press our wet cheeks against the chest of our strong Father and let Him embrace us with His love.  Even in the desert.  Where the sun is blinding and the path seems to have disappeared beneath the sand.  His tender mercies are there to sustain us.  One. Day. At. A. Time.

He has not forgotten us.  He calls you His beloved, and He has not forgotten you.