It’s a yearly tradition at our house, although none of us particularly wanted it. It’s the annual “Pollen Snow” week. A seedling tree that our neighbor planted 15 years ago at the back of her lot to soak up rainwater has grown to monstrous proportions. In late spring/early summer, the tree bestows its gifts upon our yard – fluffy pollen that resembles snow. The pollen could drift any direction, but for some reason, our yard gets the bulk of it. Each year the gift increases; each year we gaze in annoyance at it.
That changed for me this morning. I was looking out over our snowy yard as the sun came up, and in my barely-awake state, it occurred to me that it looked just like manna. When the Hebrew people were traveling through the desert on their way to the promised land of Canaan after escaping slavery in Egypt, God gave them manna. Every morning the bread-flakes fell from the sky, and the Hebrews had enough to eat. Not a day went by that God didn’t send the heavenly bread. You can read about it in the Bible; it’s first mentioned in the book of Exodus, chapter 16.
Looking at our snowy yard this morning reminded me that every day, God provides what I need for that day. He never misses a day. And for that, I am thankful.