MANNA

We started this journey in ’97, when our oldest son, 

Ryan, left us for heaven.

No road map to guide us in this uncharted land.  

We only could trust our Father’s kind hand.

The desert was dark and lonely and sad.   

We often ran out of the strength that we had.

‘Twas then we’d find “manna”, God’s special supply, 

fresh every morning, new grace He’d provide.

Just like the Israelites there was always enough, 

if I needed a little or on some days, so much!

It came through His people or sometimes His Book, 

a note or a phone call or by the time our friends took.

Three men from Ohio came to Missouri that first day

to minister God’s grace in a practical way.

Trips to the airport, taking phone calls, 

helping in ways we weren’t aware of at all.

Hundreds of people traveled hundreds of miles, 

showing their love in our greatest of trials.

A cup of cold lemonade, a bouquet or a meal; 

tangible evidence of God’s grace we could feel.

My niece and her mother spent a week in our home, 

helping write cards for the care folks had shown.

Even Joshua Christian, a toddler at best, 

brought us laughter and joy and made us feel blessed.

The agony of expense reports from the week Ryan died 

was too painful for Terry no matter how hard he tried.

His friend came one day and gave him a hand— 

much-needed manna in the desert land.

While writing a “thank you” to a friend far away, 

I was feeling so lonely and sad on that day.

Then the phone rang and it was that very friend!   

Manna for my day because she obeyed Him!

There was a lady who offered to come once a week, 

to help with the chores or wipe tears from my cheek.

She’d walked this path, too, and His manna received. 

Now she was the manna for our family who grieved.

I found grocery certificates in my purse one Sunday. 

Only God knows who they came from— He provided that way.

Our kids’ teachers and peers, folks from our neighborhood, 

co-workers and church friends all did what they could.

One night when we went for a stroll round the block, 

Our hearts were so heavy we could not talk.

When we got home some anonymous friend 

had left two thousand dollars— timely manna again.

In the midnight hours when sleep evaded me, 

I opened His Word to find comfort and peace.

“The sovereign Lord came to heal broken hearts, 

to give beauty for ashes, a robe of praise He imparts.”

We’ll be called “oaks of righteousness”, hardy and strong 

for the display of His splendor to those looking on.

Then they’ll see God in His faithfulness and might.   

That is the manna He gave me that night.

Down through these years He’s continued His care, 

so many ways He proves He’s still there.

A note from a friend says, “I was thinking today, 

of how Ryan influenced my life in some way.”

A young man who came to know Christ through our grief, 

and let Terry mentor him for so many weeks.

sent a tape this year of his first sermon he gave 

as he’s preparing for ministry - a trophy of Grace!

It’s been five years now and someone might say, 

we shouldn’t still need fresh manna each day.

We should be out of our wilderness, on with our lives; 

Put our losses behind us, no more tears from our eyes.

But just how long was it God gave manna back then? 

When did that daily supply of grace end?

The Bible is clear – no special food from his hand, 

when they finally entered the Promised Land.

The same’s true for us.  We’ll need manna no more 

when we, too, arrive on the Heavenly shore.

We don’t know how soon that glad day will come, 

the day we see Jesus and Ryan, our son.

But we do know with confidence He will provide, 

new grace every morning, an adequate supply.

And maybe in some way He’ll let us be, 

manna for someone who hurts or has needs.

And so, we say “Thank You” to each one of you, 

who have walked by our sides many miles, or a few.

Your prayers and your words gave strength for our days, 

and thanks to our God for His unending grace!

Carolyn Lawrence

July 4, 2002