I grew up with the stories of the exodus and God’s miraculous provision for His people on their travels from Egypt to Canaan. And it always baffled me how anyone could ever complain about receiving bread from heaven everyday! Surely if my Mom were serving bread from heaven everyday I wouldn’t complain – I thought.

Instead, maize seemed to show up at just about every meal. Mealie-meal porridge for breakfast and sometimes lunch. Sadza for supper and sometimes lunch. While I crave sadza these days, growing up, it was hardly bread from heaven to my taste buds.

But those Israelites…! The food on your table is so clearly a miracle yet you’d still complain?! It’s one thing to prefer a different genre of food over what is offered you. But when you had nothing, and someOne gives you heaven’s cuisine, you at least eat with gratitude, if not enjoyment, right.

The first time my husband and I heard our baby’s heartbeat was such a moving experience. All the nausea, fatigue, and vertigo were truly signs that there was a human being developing inside me! It gave meaning to the madness, you know.

Then, later that day, for the first time, I discerned the baby’s movements. Apparently, the baby had already been moving but never having experienced the alien activity of another human being inside of me, I simply relegated the sensations to bowel movements of the flatulent classification. Yet somehow, that night, I was able to distinguish the baby move.

It was astounding. Both my husband and I were moved to tears at the thought that God would entrust the care of His child to us. That was a very emotional day for us.

Not long hence, more often than is appreciated, I’m awake at 3 in the morning. Tired. But wide awake. And the miraculous fetal movements have grown in intensity. Why the baby prefers to practice gymnastics in the wee hours of the morning, I do not know. And were it not for the anticipation of a full day of work ahead, I’d be less inclined to complain about the timing…

Complain! Complain about a miracle? An ongoing miracle growing inside of me?! Maybe the problem wasn’t the manna or the sadza…Maybe the problem is with God’s people and how we come to take, for granted, the blessings He bestows upon us.

Sometimes, at first, we don’t even realize that we are the recipients of God’s gracious gifts. We fail to decipher the moving of the miracle in our lives. Then, oft-times, we forget to remember that this is a miracle to which the right response would be gratitude.

Yes, we forget to remember! Remembering is not a passive experience. In Scripture, to remember God’s blessings is given as an injunction – it is commanded!

Miracles become common when we forget to remember that they are, indeed, miracles! So today, I thank God for the miracle of the life that is growing inside of me – even if it means I’m awake at 3am most nights…!

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