“ So the people of Israel did as they were told. Some gathered a lot, some only a little. But when they measured it out, everyone had just enough. Those who gathered a lot had nothing left over, and those who gathered only a little had enough. Each family had just what it needed.
— Exodus 16:17-18 (link)”
At the beginning of Beth Moore's Daniel study, my Thursday night ladies joined with her in a sort of fast. She chose to give up heavy meats (which apparently for a Texan is akin to giving up air). But she urged us to choose something that was as much a picture of saying "no" to the Babylonian mentality for us it was for as a hunter's wife giving up rich meats.
I have to confess, time flew by and I never stopped long enough to realize the area of my life in which I am continually indulgent, taking far more than I need. I was hesitant to completely give up coffee (as that was my knee-jerk reaction) because so often my coffee breaks are spent building relationships (at work, at church, and with friends). So rather than go with such an unsettling reaction to Beth's "assignment," I did nothing. (Go ahead, say "booo.")
But on the last day of the last week, I realized in a moment while driving home from group what my biggest area of excess is. Groceries. I have spent more money this year eating out than I have on all of my utilities (water/electric/telephone/television/Internet) combined. And all the time I am spending money to eat at restaurants every day for lunch and occasionally for dinner, I have had a pantry and refrigerator full of food that slowly (or in some cases quickly) gets stale/moldy/otherwise inedible.
I felt a severe push to experience change in this area, which I took to be a snapshot (really a thumbnail) of the bigger-picture issue of the practice of excess I have embraced as a default in my lifestyle. In order for me to fully understand the depth of my habitual superfluity, I needed to radically change the way I look at spending money on food.
So I have spent the last two weeks limited to a $5/week food budget. That's a little more than 71 cents a day. And yet in this country where that much money won't buy a person nearly enough to satisfy a day's appetite, I have not had a moment where I was hungry and didn't have food to fulfill that need. But for the first time, I was full without having so much leftover waste.
So when I came across this verse in Exodus last week, I really felt like one of those people who had gathered a lot and had nothing left over. The Lord has provided exactly how much He knew I would need during this time. Even when my coworkers escaped the office to get a bite at Three 9s (and I had to say I couldn't go with them), my boss stepped in and offered to cover my meal without an explanation as to why I wasn't able to put money toward food. Through that act I experienced the warmth of the Father's love and the depth of His understanding my need for community… Something I never would have experienced in this way outside the "fast."
I will admit that I have eaten some odd meals — I was not above making entire dinners of edamame or au gratin potatoes. I had corn for lunch today. Corn and cheese. But for the first time in a very long time, I can glance into my pantry and not feel the weight of the excess I have been living with. Be assured, I do not feel I have not escaped it forever — I think it will be an ever-present reality. It is a consequent of our instant society where cans of soup and microwaveable chocolate cake and steam-in-bag corn are commonplace. I used to keep a store of those things on the off chance that I might eat a meal in one night. Now I feel compelled to be more responsible with what I have been blessed with, and to consider what I have before defaulting to eating out (often alone) simply for the sake of not having to do the dishes.
This verse in Exodus goes on to talk about how God instructed them not to gather food on the Sabbath. He would give them double what they needed before the sabbath came so that they would have enough to rest the next day. Yet some continued to go out in the field and search for the food that had been provided to them in the days before. I have to wonder why they did this, whether they didn't trust that there would be food the next day. What is it that makes the Israelites and me collect food without ceasing instead of making a point to enjoy what we have already been given?
A while ago STATUS was slated to have a guest speaker talk about being the 'hands of Christ.' But when the day arrived for her to speak she came down with a cold or a stomach virus or the bird flu (my memory is a little fuzzy on that detail) and the leadership had to throw together an emergency service in a matter of a few hours. What resulted was one of the most amazing, memorable nights I have ever had at STATUS (and that's saying a lot — there have been many).