The Everyday is So...Well, Every Day

"The problem with everyday," my mom used to say, "It's, well, so every day."

That right there is life in the desert: It's day by day, every day, with a level of hopelessness that your life will be like this.  Forever.

Sometimes it's hour by hour. 

It's hard, to be sure, but that doesn't permit us to slip into grumbling--which is kind of hidden rebellion against God.  

Think of it this way:  Have you ever known someone who will not tell you out right what is wrong, but will say something under their breath, just loud enough for you to hear it?  They won't come right out and tell you--they want you to know just enough, and because they are hurt or angry, they want you to fill in the missing pieces and then understand their hurt or anger.  Or they get someone else to tell you, for the person is still not willing to confront you directly; they think if someone else tells you, you will go to that person and inquire as to what is wrong.

The person, all the while, is still hurt or angry as they send their "envoys" out. That anger or hurt then begins to transform into bitterness, because the person is not getting the results they think they deserve. Hebrews 12:15 really captures this descent into bitterness and its consequences: "See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many."

Wow.  By not seeing God's grace, bitterness ensues.  Why?  Because you think that God doesn't (a) care (b) blesses everyone but you (c) appreciate all you've done (d) all of the above.

Look how Paul frames the argument: 

"Nevertheless, God was not pleased with most of them; their bodies were scattered in the wilderness. Now these things occurred as examples to keep us from setting our hearts on evil things as they did. Do not be idolaters, as some of them were; as it is written: 'The people sat down to eat and drink and got up to indulge in revelry.' We should not commit sexual immorality, as some of them did—and in one day twenty-three thousand of them died. We should not test Christ, as some of them did—and were killed by snakes. And do not grumble, as some of them did—and were killed by the destroying angel. These things happened to them as examples and were written down as warnings for us, on whom the culmination of the ages has come. So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!" (1 Cor. 10:6-12)

What a minute, here.  I am not an idolater, so that passage is rather irrelevant to me. I don't test Christ.  Yeah, I grumble--sometimes--but I am still here, so I obviously didn't attract the attention of the destroying angel."

OK, that's fair.  But when testing (the same word for "temptation") comes, how do you respond?  Grumbling?  Despairing?  Christian on the outside, rebellious soul on this inside? No comes the most quoted part of this passage: "No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it." (1 Cor. 10:13)

Testing tempts you to dive deep into yourself, and seek out your own resources.

That's idolatry.  When you trust and then are loyal to something or someone other than God, your idol has taken you away from sitting at God's feet and waiting on Him to show you the way. 

Some of us want Christ to show Himself, in a mighty way, because we have lots and lots of faith, and His delay means we need to muster more. We determine the how and why of His showing up with our presumptuous declarations of faith. That's testing Christ.  It's the "if you really loved me, You'd do this!"  We demand a response rather than a relationship.

And we grumble.  To others.  Under our breath.  Disguised as conversation.   Disguised as concern.  Just wanting to vent and really not get to the root of our situation: We are growing rebellious and bitter, despite all appearances to the contrary. 

Back to the desert.  The daily grind gets to us at times, and we start to complain about God's delay and the monotony of the situation. The root of bitterness is slowly but surely twisting around our heart. 

What's amazing is how God will show up despite our grumbling, because He loves us: 

"Then Moses told Aaron, 'Say to the entire Israelite community, Come before the Lord, for he has heard your grumbling.’

"While Aaron was speaking to the whole Israelite community, they looked toward the desert, and there was the glory of the Lord appearing in the cloud.

"The Lord said to Moses, 'I have heard the grumbling of the Israelites. Tell them,  At twilight you will eat meat, and in the morning you will be filled with bread. Then you will know that I am the Lord your God.'

"That evening quail came and covered the camp, and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. When the dew was gone, thin flakes like frost on the ground appeared on the desert floor. When the Israelites saw it, they said to each other, 'What is it?' For they did not know what it was." (Ex. 16: 9-15) 

Way more important is not the manna, but that God showed up!  The manna was amazing, yes, but even more so, the Lord showed up (again, by the way--the Exodus is a testimony to God' numerous appearances!) and then came the bread.

Jesus showed up to answer the cry of our rebellious/aching/lost heart and then He offered Himself as the Bread of Life.

Maybe it's not the every day of the desert and our struggles in it; it's focusing on the desert and not seeing the One who shows up with love and His healing presence.

If we are not careful, our bitterness will blind us to God's appearances in our desert. Not because we've demanded it, or expect it, but because He loves us and has our best interests at heart. 

Trusting Him:  Isn't that what will truly get us through the every day of the desert?  Yes, manna is fine, but isn't our true hunger going to only be met by Him?