Bread Rain & a Dented Silverado

Yesterday was the first day in literally a month that I didn’t cry over something stupid.

For example, the day before, I was chopping some onions and I started sobbing. The day before, I burnt my hand on a toaster again. Before that, my cat died, and before that, the stars were really pretty and I saw some cows and I ended up on a back country road that makes your stomach jump when you go twenty miles over the speed limit when going over a hill.

I should have cried yesterday. Let’s be honest.

It was my first day of college classes, and I had to travel between campuses. I put literally 50 miles on my car just going to school and had to drive on a six lane interstate to get home. So, I felt super hip and independent just being alone in my car for two hours. Except that became insanity or mental illness or something, because then I tried to park for my afternoon class and I drove my ghetto little (big) car into a nice new Silverado that belonged to some popular guy and the cops and my mother had to come out and everyone laughed at me.

I’m taking a break from school, and from driving 50 miles a day on a six lane interstate in my ghetto car.

And it’s terrifying. I spent so much time thinking about what graduated adult Hannah Durham would do, and now I am graduated adult Hannah Durham and I’m not in school and I don’t see my ministry God promised, and I’m sitting at Starbucks because I have no where to be before I go to work at the frozen yogurt store down the road.

I just got given a free mug and free coffee and a giant gingerbread Starbucks syrup thing. I think the coffee gods are giving me charity.

But here’s what God told me yesterday, before I dented the Silverado and before I felt like a drop out with mental illness: My provision doesn’t look how you expect it will, my dear.

And yes, He did tell me that while I was drinking Starbucks.

In Exodus, when the Israelites were out in the desert, God promised them that He would provide them food. And He did. He made it rain freaking bread. And when the Israelites saw it in the morning, all they could do was ask, “What is it?” (Which is what manna means.) “And Moses said to them, ‘It is the bread that the Lord has given you to eat.’ (Exodus 16:15 ESV)

That’s when I would have said, “Moses. You obviously just ate a hallucenogenic cactus. How are you making any sense of this?”

Because the Israelites knew that the provision was coming. They were just expecting it on their terms. Nobody prayed for God to rain bread. So they couldn’t recognize God’s provision when it came.

So yeah, I’m super confused on why I had to drop my classes because I couldn’t afford the gas and also now can’t afford to pay for the dent in this kid’s truck, or why I need to pick up full time hours when I thought I was supposed to still be a kid, or why things look nothing how I expected them to look when I told God to take my new year and turn it into a reflection of his glory.

What is this?

I didn’t pray for no bread rain. But God gave me some bread rain. His ways are not my ways, and I don’t have to understand the reason he does what he does. I just have to pray for the eyes to see that he is working everything for good. And he knows just what he is doing. And everything that happens can be used by him for his glory. It’s shaping me into who I, specifically, adult graduated Hannah Durham, need to be. Even if it’s less than glorious and makes no sense.

And accepting that has made me super happy. So happy that I laughed for about thirty minutes over my mirror falling off my car. I’ve got joy, at least. And confidence that God knows just how to provide.

Oh, this season will be good.

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