Do you ever feel stuck in a rut when it comes to food choices? For me, it’s chicken. I like chicken, don’t get me wrong. But last night I stared into my refrigerator and all I saw was chicken. General Tso’s chicken. Fajita chicken. Deli-style chicken breast. Jerk chicken. More chicken to eat after days of eating chicken. It was depressing.
If you’re like me and you’ve opened the fridge, stared at the shelves, and sighed, “Leftovers again?”, you can relate to the Israelites of the first books of the Bible.
When God rescued them from Egypt and led them into the desert wilderness, they had no means of obtaining food. So, God provided daily food from heaven called manna. The word manna itself translates something like “What is it?” (Exodus 16:15). If you have to ask what something you’re about to eat is, that isn’t good. It wasn’t bread exactly, but, when baked, it was kind of like bread. Every morning except for the Sabbath, fresh manna appeared on the ground, and the people gathered enough for the day. Just manna. Day after day after day.
At first, it was amazing—God’s “bread” from heaven! But after a while, the novelty wore off. Numbers 11 records the people complaining, longing for variety: “We remember the fish we ate in Egypt; also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic. But now we have lost our appetite; we never see anything but this manna!” (vv. 5–6).
Manna again? After a while, the miracle wore off, and they were left with manna.
Before we roll our eyes, let’s be honest. How often do we do the same? We grumble at routines, find ourselves stuck in a rut, or complain that life, even worship, feels ordinary. We want spiritual fireworks—mountaintop moments, dramatic breakthroughs—while God quietly provides steady daily bread.
But here’s the thing: God’s manna wasn’t just about food. Sure, it kept them alive. But it was really about trust. God was teaching his people to rely on him, day in and day out. They couldn’t hoard the manna or stockpile it. The manna they gathered every morning turned into a moldy mess by the next. They had to wake up every morning and trust that God would be faithful again.
Maybe that’s why Jesus taught us to pray, “Give us this day our daily bread.” Not tomorrow’s bread. Not next month’s blessing. Just enough for today.
The miracle isn’t always (or often) in the spectacular: it’s in the steady. God’s faithfulness shows up in ordinary mercies: another sunrise, a meal on the table, breath in our lungs, a community of faith, the quiet peace of prayer.
So yes, it’s manna again. But maybe that’s the point. Daily grace, daily bread, daily trust. What do you think?
Prayer: Faithful God, forgive me when I fail to see or even grumble at your daily mercies. Teach me to see the miracle in the ordinary, and to trust you for my needs one day at a time. Amen.
