VALLEY LESSONS: Daily Bread

Enough.

What a distant word from our generation.

We are a people who are hungry for more. More stuff, more control, more money, more stability, more convenience. 

And yet, Jesus taught us to pray for daily bread. 

Enough. For today only.

What a counter-cultural call. In a world that scurries around hoarding, storing, consuming, longing for more, More, MORE–Jesus says, pray for daily bread. 

Daily bread meant very little to me when my wedding ring sparkled on my finger, my fridge was full, my income was secure, my future was laid out. And then one day I woke up, and all of that had shattered and blown away in the wind. 

And very quickly, daily bread became my desperate cry. Please, Father, provide food so I can feed my kids dinner tonight. Please, Father, provide money so I can make the payment for rent. Please, Father, hold me tight tonight because I’m so afraid and so lonely. 

The needs of today were far too severe, too fiercely in my face, to even think about a 10-year plan. When I hit rock bottom, all that was on my mind was getting my daughters and myself through the day. 

All we needed was enough for TODAY. 

And, goodness, did the Lord show up with a feast. As I started to quiet my heart and ask my heavenly Father for enough for one day–enough of his presence, a portion of his Word to dwell on, a measure of faith to believe he was True, food for my kids, money to pay the bills in the mailbox right now, peace to make it to bedtime–He fed me and cared for me in perfect portion. Our bellies were full–just enough for thankfulness to reign–not too much that we felt stuffed and bloated. Not too little and left longing for another bite. 

Just the perfect amount. An anonymous envelope would show up with just enough money to pay the insurance bill. A timely Bible verse that was a salve to a present worry. A call from a friend in a moment of loneliness. 

It was striking how little I had, and yet how perfectly satisfied I was becoming. 

I had never lived like that before–it was always about acquiring more so we could be prepared for all the what-ifs. 

My storage barns were empty, but my little plate was so very full. And this was happening physically–just enough money, just enough food, just enough gas, just enough to pay the bills. But more profoundly, this was happening on a spiritual level. Jesus was meeting me with Himself each morning. 

He is our Bread of Life. And as we feast on Him, and on His Word, we are just filled up to full. His promises secure our hearts, His character meets our longings, His grace covers our sin. And it’s all perfectly portioned for each day–like manna from heaven. Daily provision for daily needs.

And this became my daily ritual. I would wake up and lift my eyes to my Father and say, “Here is all of my tremendous need for today…please give me today my daily bread to fill each void.” And He was so faithful to say yes to those daily prayers. 

I felt His smile on me each day as I stopped up my ears to the hunger of MORE FOR TOMORROW and asked him for just enough for today. 

But as time moved forward, life began to settle. I got a job. And that job came with a steady paycheck. And that paycheck paid the bills, bought the food, and was saved for tomorrow. The sting of loss lessened, so I could get through the day without tears, without fear, without worry. As I had more and more, I needed the Lord less and less. 

It’s the ancient story, isn’t it? I am one of far too many who has found herself with a full belly and a forgotten God. 

As the desperation has worn off, the discipline has needed to ramp up. My circumstances no longer drive me to lift up my hands for daily bread. So instead, I am training my heart to remember the Lord Jesus’ call–daily bread for daily needs. No more. No less. Driven to his throne by love and not my lack. Driven by the reminder of his smile and his generous heart towards me. 

It’s harder to ask for daily bread when the pantry is full. But the offer still stands. The command to ask for it still holds fast. And so we choose to quiet the noise of TOMORROW, narrow our vision, lift up our hands in childlike trust and faith, and ask our Father…

Please, give me TODAY, my DAILY bread, my dear Bread of Life–the only One who will ever truly satisfy me.