Still Waiting on Cattle… Now We Have Potatoes

Apparently Manna Comes in Bulk

After the mangoes.
After the lemons.
After the Halo oranges.

After I had wrestled with pallets and perishable theology and God’s sense of humor…
I thought maybe I had learned the lesson.

I had reflected.
I had grown.
I had written thoughtfully about provision and control.
I was maturing.

And then the potatoes came.

Not a bag.
Not a box.
Not even “a generous supply.”
A 1,000-pound bin of red potatoes.

In one of those large industrial tubs that looks like it should be holding construction material, not dinner.

And it arrived on a rainy day.
And a windy day.

Of course it did.

Thank You, God… but why??

Now what exactly does one do with 1,000 pounds of red potatoes?

Roast them?
Mash them?
Bake them?
Boil them?
Shepherd’s pie?
Potato salad?
Fries for the entire county?

You can do a lot with potatoes.
But over 1,000 pounds?
Yeah. Right.

Somewhere between trying to cover the bin from sideways rain and wondering if this was a divine joke sequel, I had this thought:
I am still praying for cattle.
Still asking for the hill.
And God keeps sending produce.

Only this time, something in me was different.

The first round of fruit had already shaped something. It had loosened my grip a bit. It had taught me that provision doesn’t always come in the form I request. It had reminded me that abundance often arrives disguised as responsibility.

So instead of panic, there was a pause.
And then word started spreading.

“Hey, there are potatoes at the HUB.”

And next thing you know, the community showed up.
Not just for themselves.
“Can I take some to my neighbors?”
“Can I share some with the families walking home from school by my house?”
“Could we use these for a community meal across town?”
“Do you mind if I grab extra for someone who couldn’t make it?”

On and on the story went.
The bin got lighter.
The conversations got richer.

The rain didn’t stop 
But what looked like an overwhelming logistics problem became provision for the now—and for the next week.

It still isn’t the cattle on a thousand hills.
But it was perfect provision at the perfect time… it even came with the theatrical wind and rain effects.

I’m beginning to think God is gently shaping something in me.
Teaching me that sometimes the miracle isn’t ownership – it’s circulation.

Sometimes the blessing isn’t what you can stand on.
It’s what you can hand out.

Maybe I’m learning that manna from heaven doesn’t always fall in flakes.
Sometimes it shows up in a 1,000-pound bin.

And maybe God is saying,
“You’re still asking for cattle.
I’m still building a community.”

So I’ll keep praying.
And I’ll keep receiving.
Blessed from above…
and blessed through a community that cares deeply.

And if the next delivery is sweet potatoes, I’m at least emotionally preparing now.