Can you collect it, manna from heaven, and then nibble on nurture during those lean days of soul when life forces a rush through every moment?
Camels have humps to store water for long walks through deserts, and we finger fullness of soul when we mull over photos of days gone by. So why can’t we store up grace from those serendipitous moments, and then roll it around on our tongues during those parched times?
Yet grace doesn’t always operate this way. Grace is often given moment by moment. Bread from heaven arrives in an instant, not in truck beds delivered for nine months of needs. And when we nibble a prompted scripture or savor an eternity-filled awareness that awakens us in the night, some crumbs of grace mysteriously find their way into our hearts and then through the ink of our pens and the paintbrushes in our hands.
Abide. We create with grace and manna from heaven forms in the art form we hold in our hands. Grace materializes for other hungry souls, those waiting for a touch from the divine.
What a mystery true fellowship with God and with others is. We receive abundant manna and the supply tumbles above and beyond what our hearts can contain. We receive far more than what we need and our excess forms a part of our writing or art intended for others. Someone sups on something God has given to us: a prompting or promise, sparkle of hope, or strength to go on.
And the food from heaven’s table swells in our spirits, and others enjoy our art or writing or music or sculpture or photo or dance…all because we received, one moment at a time, and then shared our creativity with others.
When we choose to abide, that makes all of the difference in how we, and others, live.