For a long time it was something I recited as a child because they taught me to.
At some point I realized that it was about asking God for food, something I wasn’t lacking in my blessed, middle class, American life.
As I grew in faith and maturity I became aware that even though I never lacked food, that my world was full of people who were starving to death. When my friends flew and returned from Africa and Honduras with stories of streets full of hungry children it became more real, this prayer for bread.
Sometimes I wander into my stocked pantry with exotic jars of dates and 4 different kinds of rice and wonder “where do I get off, God? Why me?” I have daily bread to spare and it leaves me in a mixed place of thankfulness and fat guilt.
The Hebrew teachers describe scripture as a book full of jewels with many facets. Each passage and verse filled with layers of meaning, taking us ever deeper.
Lately, Jesus’ prayer for Daily bread has gone beyond food for the stomach and has spoken to the food needed to sustain my hungry soul.
Summer life can be dry for me, leaving me hungry for quiet moments and routine, desperate for sustained rhythm. Caedmon is going through his “no” phase and Noelle is so resistant against potty training it’s ridiculous. There are moments I want to cry, or scream, mostly both. Sometimes this supposedly blissful mom life makes me want to run out the front door like my hair’s on fire.
Lately, when the ends of my hair start to spark and threaten to burn, God’s been showing me my daily bread. I stand in the kitchen, face down on the cold countertop when suddenly Caedmon peeks around the corner and yells “a-peek-boo!”
That moment is a bit of my daily bread.
Noelle is beautiful and creative and bless her heart she doesn’t stop talking from sun up to sun down. There are moments that I long for quiet as she peppers me with questions about what skunks like to eat. Then she starts playing baby bird with me and asks if we can go to her nest (our bed) and read books together.
Suddenly her tweets as she circles pillows are daily bread.
For too long I thought manna was something that only fell in the desert ages ago, then I realize that it’s raining manna in my home.
Even though life is somewhat hot and dry, I am sustained by a portion beyond measure.
Around the world there are millions with hungry stomachs and billions with hungry, lonely souls. My heart is burdened with the hungry all wondering if they will be seen, loved, fed.
Can I lift up an entire world that you’re already holding in your hands? May heavy manna find its way to their tongues, their heart feeling full of your sweet sustenance and love.
As for me God, I dare not ask for more.
How about you? What manna has hit your tongue this week?
Can you see daily bread, even in your dry spell?