“Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally comes to realise that nothing really belongs to them.” ~ Paulo Coelho
It’s so easy, isn’t it?
To think that everything we see and experience always has been and always will be.
Mighty and majestic mountains seem so unchanging, so permanent.
We also tend to feel this way about the lives we’ve carefully built for ourselves. Yet, we guard and protect everything we know and love because we know deep down that all can be lost in a moment.
We know that everything is constantly changing. We know even the mighty mountains will eventually erode away while new ones take their place elsewhere.
It’s just the nature of things.
The tenuousness of our lives
In the wake of the recent hurricanes that devastated Texas, Puerto Rico, and Dominica, the earthquakes in Mexico, and the raging wildfires in the American West, I’ve been reminded just how tenuous our lives can become.
In mere hours, in mere minutes, in mere seconds, everything we worked for and loved can be gone. Just like that.
And it’s not just natural disasters that have the power to turn our lives upside down. Every single day people experience upheaval:
- Job loss
- A life-changing diagnosis
- The death of a friend or loved one
- A broken relationship
- Debilitating depression or anxiety
- Social unrest
- War
We are fragile creatures and it doesn’t take much for us to become vulnerable.
Reflecting on all the natural disasters in recent weeks, a friend of mine wrote:
“I was thinking about how tenuous life is, while praying the Our Father. All those places destroyed and it’s going to happen again next year! They may not be destroyed, but hurricane season will begin again, and again…so…all their efforts, to have a nice home, all the money spent on THINGS, are in danger of being lost in the next season. And, the same goes here on a much lesser level.”
I couldn’t agree more.
Our daily bread
My friend continued:
“That’s what really hit me about the Lord’s Prayer, and I did a lot of reflecting on, “give us this day our daily bread.” That’s all we can count on. And, I should say, that’s all we should count on! But, I like my creature comforts!”
How honest. How true.
As I read this, I thought about the people of Israel in Exodus. Under Moses’ leadership, the Lord had brought them out of Egypt and freed them from slavery. But now they were starving in the wilderness. So each morning, the Lord provided them with manna from heaven.
The people were instructed by Moses to gather what they needed for the day. In the scriptures, we’re told:
“And Moses told them, ‘It is the food the Lord has given you to eat. These are the Lord’s instructions: Each household should gather as much as it needs. Pick up two quarts for each person in your tent.’
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.
Then Moses told them, ‘Do not keep any of it until morning.’ But some of them didn’t listen and kept some of it until morning. But by then it was full of maggots and had a terrible smell. Moses was very angry with them.” ~ Exodus 16:15-20
I too would have been tempted to store some of my manna or take a little extra, just in case.
This is what we do.
We save, we store, we hoard.
And of course, sometimes we need to save and store. And sometimes, in the wake of powerful forces that wash away all that we’ve stored and saved, we come to understand the deep truth of the prayer:
Give us this day our daily bread.
Thank you, Cylon.
Recent events – and their effects are ongoing – have been humbling even for those who watch from afar (like me).
I very much enjoy and appreciate the knick-knacks that surround me even when they become more of a burden than an enhancement to my life. But, when all begins to be stripped away, it does recalibrate our values.
I’ve watched as some fine people have literally supplied daily bread and water to those in stricken situations. I have been moved and, I hope, learned.
First things first.
Thanks, Cylon.
Thanks Cylon. Your post is both powerful and poignant for me… and I feel it is so on a deeper level that I have yet to understand. Having just returned from a Cursillo weekend means I am overwhelmed with lots to “process.” (Even though I was “working” on the weekend, I still take a way so much from the talks and the women I facilitate in our table discussions.) So, my weekend experience, is melding with your words of wisdom and thought provoking post. I’ll be pondering this one for a while! But what I can share is that in general, “knowing” change can come is a devastating flash, and accepting it can/will happen to me, are on opposite sides of the spectrum. I believe it is human nature AND self-preservation to deny the inevitable realities of life. On a lesser and inconsequential (to human life) scale, I’m facing that right now… My nice, quiet, dead-end street, is no longer dead-end. It is losing it’s character, the wild-life, and the woods. Man is striking again…. razing the trees, building cul-de-sacs and houses, all up and down the opposite side of the road. In the moment, change is usually devastating to me. But, keeping focused on God’s provisions, perhaps He is simply changing my diet from quiet and solitude to an opportunity to make friends and be a part of a community of neighbors. The reality is, I can learn from the story of the Israelite’s. Just as they didn’t like what was happening, I don’t like it either. But, their story teaches me to trust in the One who is in charge, who allows me to run my life, but if I trust, and accept the change, I will receive what I need. Who needs more than what they need?!