The Gift of Manna

This post is #51 in a year-long series ... Through this series of posts I plan to share our family's experiences during our 17-year-old daughter's year-long battle with brain cancer, which began in February of 2008. My desire is to process through the events of that year from the perspective that a decade of time has brought ... for myself, really. But if you'd like to follow along, you're welcome to join me.

When I was a little girl, sitting in my Sunday School class in the basement of First Baptist Church of Phillips, Wisconsin, I learned all about the Israelites wandering in the wilderness for forty years, and how God gave them manna to eat. Our teacher described manna as little wafers that tasted like honey. And I can actually remember wishing I could taste manna, because I knew I would like it. Anything that tasted like honey had to be good. I remember thinking that the Israelites were really lucky that they got to eat that stuff every day. Little did I know that someday I would be eating manna every day myself. Let me explain.

As I've shared before, when Hannah's brain tumor was found, my mind was flooded with "What If's". What if it's cancer? What if she's never the same after brain surgery? What if she dies during surgery? Then, once she had survived the surgery with basically no after-effects, and we found out it was cancer, a whole new set of "What Ifs" took over. What if she loses her hair? What if the chemo makes her really sick? What if her brain is damaged from the radiation? What if she doesn't survive this?

If you had asked me at the beginning of this journey if I could handle...

shaving my daughter's head for her...

watching her gradually lose her vision...

pushing her in a wheelchair when she could no longer walk on her own...

listening to her struggle to talk because she could no longer find the words...

feeding her when she could no longer feed herself...

holding her hand as took her last breath...

... I would have said, "No way. There is no way I could ever, EVER do any of those things! I don't have that kind of strength." And I would have been right ... There is no way I could have done any of those things on my own.  But God gave me manna in the form of His strength every day.

Do you remember what God told Moses to tell the Israelites about the manna? They were only to gather enough for each day. Did you catch that ... only enough for each day.  Some of them tried to save themselves a little work and gathered some extra for the next day. Do you remember what happened to that manna? According to the ESV, "it bred worms and stank." (Exodus 16:20)

In the same way, God gave our family manna for each day .... and only just enough for each day. We couldn't look ahead into the future and worry about "What Ifs". We simply had to trust God for our manna each day. If we did try to look too far ahead and let the worries and what ifs take over ... well, things just got wormy and stank!

The other thing the Israelites had to do was go out and gather the manna (Exodus 16:16). It didn't just fall into baskets for them ... they had to physically go out and get it. In the same way, I think we have to seek God's strength, and then be willing to receive it when He gives it. There were plenty of times when it would have been easier just to curl up into a fetal position and be angry about, or at least question, what God was allowing to take place in our family.  We had to be willing to open our hands and receive God's gift of manna.

Finally, the manna was sweet like honey (Exodus 16:31). When I look back on it now, there was a lot of sweetness during Hannah's illness. Even though there were indescribably difficult times, there are some sweet, precious memories that we wouldn't have otherwise, if not for her storm. Just the awareness of and appreciation of a simple "good day" is a priceless gift.  For that sweetness, I am grateful.