today’s manna today
Last week, I started praying over my story.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m always praying over my writing. But this story, this new book I’m working on, has kind of taken a backseat in my prayers as of late.
So last week, after another frustrating writing session, I decided to get a little more vulnerable with my Father and admit (once again) that I actually don’t know what I’m doing. My prayer went a little something like this: “Okay, so you’ve given me this story idea, and I want to move forward with it. But here’s the thing, I’m feeling stuck and scared, and I’m struggling with motivation. If I’m going to write this book, if You’ve called me to this work—and I believe that You have—what comes next? I need the next piece, please.”
You see, over these past few weeks, I’ve been slowly chipping away at the same few scenes over and over again, never making forward progress in the narrative for a few reasons:
I haven’t had the heart to wander through the wilderness of drafting.
I easily forget that I don’t have to wander alone.
A few years ago, I listened to a podcast where they talked about relying on “today’s manna today.” That phrase has stuck with me after all this time—today’s manna today.
We all know the story: God miraculously parted the Red Sea to free the Children of Israel from Egyptian bondage, and yet pretty much as soon as they were on the other side of the miracle, these people whom God had just saved started to complain against Him.
Hey, we’re hungry! Why did you bring us out here to die in the wilderness without food? In other words, they forgot who they were talking to and what He is capable of.
Hmm, that doesn’t sound familiar at all…
But how does God show up next? He rains down manna from heaven, the exact amount they need each day. They had to learn to partake of their miracle daily rather than all at once.
So it was with that phrase in mind, today’s manna today, that I prayed over my story.
Please send me what I need today.
And guess what? The Lord gave me my daily bread. But He didn’t until I sat down at my computer, opened up that document, and said, “Take me through the wilderness. I trust that you’ll provide.”
I was given another sliver of the story, another tiny piece of the puzzle. He helped me understand one of my characters a little better, and with that understanding, He unlocked a scene that I’d been stuck on for weeks. He didn’t give me a rundown of story beats or chapter breakdowns. He didn’t say, “Here’s your writing plan for the next six months, now go.” He didn’t give me what I’ll need for tomorrow. Not yet.
He gave me today’s manna today. Just enough for me to know that He’s with me and listening and always engaged. Just enough for me to continue to rely on Him. Just enough for me to practice believing that more bread will rain down tomorrow and the next day after that.
It was a perfectly timed, encouraging whisper: “Keep going.” I could write this experience off as a coincidence or luck, but I know better.
I know where my bread comes from. I know that in this wilderness I will be fed.
Today’s manna today.
