Blind to the Wonder

Then the people of Israel set out from Mount Hor, taking the road to the Red Sea to go around the land of Edom. But the people grew impatient with the long journey, and they began to speak against God and Moses. “Why have you brought us out of Egypt to die here in the wilderness?” they complained. “There is nothing to eat here and nothing to drink. And we hate this horrible manna!” – Numbers 21:4-5

Complaints in the wilderness are nothing new. The Israelites have been grumbling about their provisions from the moment they crossed the Red Sea (see Exodus 16 and 17). What struck me as I read Numbers 21 recently wasn’t that the people were complaining. It was what they said: “There’s nothing to eat here and nothing to drink. And we hate this horrible manna!”

Nothing to eat? What about the manna, the miraculous, daily sustenance from God that you’re griping about?

Nothing to drink? There was water gushing out a rock just the chapter before, enough water “to satisfy the whole community and their livestock.” (20:8)

How on earth could these people miss the incredible work of God that had been sustaining them in this desert?

But as I was scratching my head over this, it occurred to me: some of these Israelites have been eating manna their entire lives. This is the very end of the 40-year hike through the wilderness. Few of these people would even remember Egypt. Most had never lived anywhere but this desert. All they knew was this wonder, survival by God’s mighty hand and outstretched arm. Their senses were dulled to the incredible. That was just the water they swam in, day-by-monotonous-day. The miracles were all white noise by now. The people had become blind to the wonder of it all.

It's easy to find fault with the Israelites in Numbers, but what if I turned to the person in the mirror? If familiarity can obscure the wonder of something as extraordinary as manna, imagine how easy it must be to overlook the wonder of God’s very ordinary gifts in our lives today.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights,” James says (1:17)—and if I tried to catalogue all the good and perfect gifts in my life, we’d be here all day. But how often do I shut a crammed refrigerator and complain, “There’s nothing to eat”? Or groan when my daughter wants her tired Daddy’s attention? (Emily and I once thought we couldn’t have children.) Abundance and blessing are the water I swim in, day-by-day, and yet I can be so blind to the wonder of it all.

And I bet I’m not the only one.

I want you to stop what you’re doing, and name one incredible gift of God in your life. Try to name something that you know you always take for granted.

A friend.

A job.

A vehicle.

A breath of air filling your lungs.

Now, since God’s so used to hearing our grumbles, tell God how good that gift is and what it means to you. Don’t skimp on the praise—heap on the superlatives. Let God have it with gratitude.

If you and I got in the habit of doing that more often, I wouldn’t be surprised if our eyes became more attuned to the everyday wonders of God’s love and care.

Listen to today's devotional right here: