Just Enough for Today

It didn’t take long. Just a few weeks out of Egypt, and Israel was already complaining.

That’s worth sitting with for a second. These are the same people who watched the Red Sea open up. They walked through on dry ground. They saw Pharaoh’s army swallowed up behind them. And now? They’re standing in the wilderness looking at Moses like, We were better off as slaves.

I’ve been preaching for over thirty years, and I’ve watched good people do the exact same thing. God delivers them from something real: a bad marriage, an addiction, a pit they couldn’t see the bottom of, and two months later, they’re romanticizing the very thing God pulled them out of. It’s not hypocrisy. It’s fear. And fear has a terrible memory.

Here’s what I love about this passage. God doesn’t blast them for complaining. He just... provides. He says in Exodus 16:4, I’m going to rain bread from heaven for you. But don’t miss this: He adds a condition. They can only gather enough for one day at a time.

That was the whole point. God wasn’t being stingy. He was teaching them something they’d never learned in Egypt: how to trust someone other than themselves.

You know what it looks like when someone tries to stockpile the manna? Verse 20 tells us. It rotted and bred worms. The thing they grabbed out of fear became the very thing that fell apart in their hands.

I’ve seen that too. People spend so much energy trying to control their future, working three jobs, manipulating every outcome, refusing to rest, and they still wake up anxious. Because control is never the answer. Dependence is.

Jesus knew this. When He taught His disciples to pray, He didn’t say Give us this year’s bread or even this month’s bread. He said, Give us this day our daily bread (Matthew 6:11). One day. That’s the unit of measurement God works in when He’s trying to build trust.

Maybe you’re in a wilderness season right now. Maybe the pantry feels empty, not just literally, but emotionally, spiritually. Maybe you can’t see how it’s going to work out.

Here’s what I want you to hold onto: the same God who rained bread from heaven hasn’t changed. He still provides. But He does it one day at a time, because He wants your eyes on Him every single morning, not on your stockpile.

That’s not cruelty. That’s relationship.