What is it? The question to ask when trying to find God.

Sacred stories from a breadcrumb trail.

Photo by Vadim Bogulov on Unsplash

In high school, I did cadet training. I enjoyed the break from regular classes and the adventure of getting out in nature. Once a year, we'd travel to a place called "Mount Disappointment" and hike around the bush for a week or so. It was a fitting name because those times didn't always match my expectations. It would rain there a lot, so we'd get wet, cold, and often lost out in the middle of nowhere.

As a result, I learned the art of leaving a breadcrumb trail. Walking along, I'd leave reminders of where I'd been to avoid getting lost.

The real lesson was in learning to look for the breadcrumb trail and not miss it. It wasn’t easy to see unless, of course, you were looking.

Hold that thought.

This year I've been reading through the one-year Bible. I passed through Exodus about two months ago, maybe more.

I've always loved the Exodus story, and the older I get, the more I realize it's because it's the framework for everything that is to come later in scripture, but also for our lives. It's the story of bondage and release, finding worship in the wilderness, and traveling to the promised land.

And again, this year, I was struck by that story. But this time, it was because it made me think about the kind of God we have who provides manna in the desert.

In my imagination, I always think of manna as chunks of bread falling from the sky. But the reality is it was probably something different. The closest English translation of the Hebrew for manna is "What is it?" Which I find fascinating. Translators have turned that word into "wafers" to make things easier to understand, which gives an entirely different connotation.

So picture this; each morning, when the people of Israel emerged from their tents, the ground was white with manna. In other words, covered in kindness from God, and when they saw it, they would ask, "What is it?"

Whichever way you look at it, I like imagining it as a breadcrumb trail - a daily reminder for the people of Israel of how to find God. If they followed the provision, they would run smack-bang into Him. And in the story, you see Him providing just enough for each day. And then on the 6th day, enough for two days so you could rest and Sabbath with Him - miraculous provision, a miraculous story, and an amazing God.

Bread is everywhere in the Bible. 

There's the Passover bread and the Elisha story of feeding people. Jesus feeds the 5000 and the 4000 with a little bread. Then, there's the Last Supper and the breaking of bread, not to mention when Jesus teaches us to pray the Lord's Prayer. He tells us to ask for our daily bread, knowing we need it. 

And then, there's Jesus!

In John, He says, "I am the bread of life," and in that simple statement, He is offering himself as the one who sustains everything, our most basic need, the one who enables us to break bread in community together, and the one who nourishes our lives. 

The metaphor is meant to help us understand that Jesus is essential for eternal life, not just physical sustenance. It is a powerful statement and the first of several "I AM" statements in the Gospel of John, which are all claims to deity. So, when Jesus says, "I am the bread of life," he is not just making a symbolic statement but a theological one.

And that is awesome because I love theology.  

I studied for my Master's in Theology some years ago, so right here, I would love to deviate into a discourse about that, but instead, I want to tell you about Jesus' breadcrumb trails in our lives this year. 

(Hopefully, amongst all that I am sure you are going through this year, you will soon be able to start spotting the trails Jesus is laying in your life too.)

When we finished full-time employment at the start of the year, I felt a little anxious about the mortgage, the cost of groceries, the bills, and the constant encouragement from our mechanic to exchange our 20-year-old car for something more reliable.  

I found it easier to grumble and complain than to take God at his word and rest in his ability to provide for us.  

We found ourselves in the wilderness and the in-between. The liminal space of transition echoed the words of Eugene Pettersen;

"The wilderness has 1000 different ways to kill us."

And I could imagine every single one of them.  

Active imagination can be a blessing and a curse. I can see the best and the worst. And I often have to choose to be optimistic and to hide my inner Eeyore (for all those Winnie the Pooh fans out there).

I know we have to work; that is a given, no work, no bread. And yet, in it all, there is a tension we hold. The Lord knows what we need, and He provides for us. And He also gives us the ability to work.  

When we left Hillsong, Cass and I had no idea what was ahead (to be honest, I'm not sure we are more certain a few months down the track), but we started to pray prayers asking Him to guide us into His ways.

That was us starting to look for the breadcrumb trail.

And we were astounded at His way of providing.

It started with provision for Cass's studies. Morling gave her a partial scholarship. We asked the Lord if she should study, and someone told her to fill in the forms. Immediately they replied that they would help us. And we counted it as a piece of bread on a foreign path.

Then there was our Pastor from our youth days in Melbourne, who would call and check in and offer kindness and encouragement - another piece of bread.

Someone dropped in dinner one night - more bread crumbs. And a voucher to buy groceries on another occasion, right when we needed it - another crumb on the trail.

We sat at dinner one night with friends, prayed for a miracle baby, and saw the Lord's answer. He was leading.

And then there is the Rhino.

We started to write, and people began to join the journey, and we found ourselves echoing the Israelites as we looked at the provision and asked ourselves, "What is it?" Manna? Bread? Provision? A new community? What is it?

A trip to America to be with friends and encourage churches that came together quickly – "What is it?"

An invitation to speak at Bethels School of Worship – "What is it?"

A little gathering in a lounge room on Sunday nights – "What is it?"

The opportunity to start something in the worship space – "What is it?"

And little by little, we are discovering a pathway forward and new friends on the journey. We're surprised again at the way the Lord provides guidance and provision. 

But, of course, there are days we wake up and forget to look for indicators of God's way forward. There's nothing that seems to lead in His direction. But that is where we have decided to live differently in this season.

We started a One Journal.

We have started a One Journal – a digital journal where I make Cass record something that speaks to God's faithfulness, leading, kindness, or generosity daily. 

This morning, someone reminded me that in God's awesomeness, He doesn't just give us food but also tastebuds too. The very thing that sustains us doesn't have to taste good, but it often does. There's nothing like freshly cooked bacon in the morning, the smell of it cooking, the tasty, juicy, fatty goodness. Or a sneaky spoonful of Nutella, a warm chocolate croissant, or that first sip of coffee in the morning or the last cup of tea at night.

In other words, I've started looking for His provision's richness and flavor. And I've been training myself to find something to be grateful for daily. I stop and ask myself where I found Him today, active and present.

Instead of just receiving good things from the Lord, I examine the breadcrumbs scattered all over life and ask, "What is it?"

And this question helps me realize that the things I so easily take for granted are God laying a trail right to Himself. The question helps me know that He is constantly at work. He is continually helping me find Him.

And when I lose my way, I now have about 90 days of records of where God has been and what He has been doing, and it encourages me to keep my feet on the pathway and to continue to trust Him to move us forward into the future.

And so, more than ever, I am aware of His intentionality in our lives.

Even though there's still no new car and the cost of living is high. And even though I struggle to live in the moment and not be consumed by what it might look like 6 or 12 months down the track, there is now wonder and anticipation each day. As I wake up and poke my head out of our figurative tent, I see the ground white with manna again, and I keep asking myself;

"What is it?"

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