O taste and see
When I came to Blackburn House in July my funds were slim after five months of instability and transiency. my anxiety about this exacerbated my frustrations and poor attitude about many things.
My first sermon at Blackburn’s Chapel was in August, during a series on “God’s Faithfulness,” and my text came from Numbers—God’s provision of quail in the desert despite the Israelites quibbling about manna and their desire to turn back to Egypt (supposedly a land of plenty).
It hasn’t fallen from the sky, but there has been manna all around.
O taste and see
Apples that fall from the neighbors’ tree into our garden, apples on an untended tree down the road, apples in an abandoned orchard ascending a mountain—the sweetest I’ve ever tasted. A church member has more potatoes than he can dig, another drops off a bag of pears picked up in her yard. Gifts from farmer friends at the market and down the road. A free pumpkin at the country store. Crabapples and black walnuts that no one else wants anything to do with. And everywhere things called weeds that are food and medicine.
If one has the eyes to see, there is so often plenitude.
Every pursuit or discipline I’ve undertaken—poetry, ministry in the city, farming—has been about transforming vision.
And when I finally see, after my God breaks through my anxiety and frustrations, I see that asking God to provide is not asking for manna to fall from the sky, but to pay attention to what is there to be tasted and seen.
O taste and see that the Lord is good