Monday, February 16, 2009

on "Daily Bread"...

Recently I've had occasion to revisit--several times, I might add, through my own quiet times of reflection, or a word from a blog I follow, or even in a sermon I heard; God things, all--the prayer that Jesus models for us in His Olivet Discourse (more popularly known as the Sermon on the Mount). I'm sure most of you are familiar with the words He spoke in Matthew:

"Our Father in Heaven,
hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come,
Your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
Forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from the evil one."

The words I've been focusing on lately are the seven simple ones He prays in the prayer's only real physical request: "Give us this day our daily bread."

What I've been focusing on is just what, exactly, constitutes "daily bread". I've always found that part of His prayer interesting. He asks us not to look ahead to tomorrow, or focus on yesterday, but trust our Father to provide us what we need for sustenance for today. As evidence of this, Jesus tells us further on in His teaching, just a few verses later, where He tells us not to store up treasures here on earth, but in heaven, and not to worry about daily provisions...as our Heavenly Father will provide those to us as we have need.

I think this whole bit about trusting in God to provide for us on a daily basis is played out beautifully in Exodus. God's provision of literal "daily bread" in the form of manna is simple and yet powerful. The Israelites were told, with one exception, not to take any more than they needed for that day. Were they to take any more than this allotment, the leftovers would spoil and they'd have to toss it--probably at the risk of embarrassing themselves to their neighbors, friends, and family. It was an important lesson in trusting that God would provide for today, and do the same thing tomorrow.

I say all of this to let you know that I've really been taking Jesus' words here to heart, especially lately. Many of you know that we are in fairly significant financial debt. It's getting better, really--we're working very hard on whittling it down--but, the truth is, we're probably saddled with quite a few payments to creditors for several years, at the very least. It's not a fun situation to be in. Quite honestly, there are times when I wonder whether this burden will every be lifted. It's a demoralizing, depressing, embarrassing function of my financial immaturity. But I digress.

It's at these times that I have to force myself to take stock of all that God's given me. This includes the obvious material blessings (and they are many, despite my sinful desire for wanting more), as well as things I don't often stop to think of, such as family, friends, a job, my health...honestly, this list could go on and on, and that alone is evidence of God's grace in my life! And although I tend to think of the Lord's provision stretching into tomorrow and next week, and the years to come, I, like His children in the desert, need to recognize the bread that He's provided for me today.

It's hard, I admit. But I'm learning every time my mind wanders to the balance I owe for a particular debt, to simply thank God for the daily bread he's provided me with in the form of our bills being current. When I start to worry over whether we'll ever have the finances necessary to buy a home, or send the kids to college, or retire, I whisper, "Thank You, Lord, for my daily bread!", knowing that there's money in our checking account. Knowing that the God of all creation has it taken care of, to the point where I don't have to worry about our daily needs.

God promises us that, when we ask Him to, He will provide us what we need to make it through today. In so doing, He provides hope for tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after. The key, I'm discovering, is to keep our eyes focused on the blessings He provides for us today. Everything after that is already in His hand...which we'll discover tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that...


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