Manna

OK. So I don't really know what the heck this is. Sometimes it rhymes...other times...it doesn't. If I were a poet, I would call this a poem. If I were a musician, I'd make this into a song. But I'm me. So this is just a thing.

 

  Manna 

When I can't see 

How you're going to provide for me

What you've given me for today
I always try to save
To ease the pain of a different day

I think that perhaps I should wait
Hide the manna away
To be prepared and ready
for the hunger of a future day

                           But it doesn't work like that                             

          Because what you've given me for this specific moment        

               Is not what my soul will need          

                           To be sustained tomorrow                            

The bread doesn't last

The grace for yesterday's pain 
When saved, rather than engaged
Won't help ease tomorrow's troubles

Yet I starve myself in the moment

In order to have a sense of control 

For a more secure tomorrow

Because I'd rather have the assurance 

Of a stale crust stuffed into my pocket

Than trust that you'll provide

Fresh grace to my soul every morning 

Because it's hard to trust

When I'm hungry in my soul so much

That you'll continually provide what I need 

So instead I keep asking to see 

Exactly how you plan to provide for me

While I'm still swallowing my lunch

So I try to save it

Or refuse to partake in it

Afraid you didn't mean it 

When you said not to save it

The Israelite

In my life

Is me