Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread
“Give us this day our daily bread.” I say these words as part of the Lord’s Prayer every morning; again later if it’s a day I go to church. Simple as the phrase is, I’ve found it tough to work out what it means in practice, in terms of the way I approach my life. A few pieces have been slowly coming together, though, to help me make a real connection.
Why do I find asking for “daily bread” challenging at all? One stumbling block has been my preconceived ideas about what’s “appropriate” for prayer. I remember going to a service at a friend’s church last year and hearing a missionary couple asking the congregation to pray for their needs, including things like selling their condo promptly. I had a really hard time with that. Praying for material things seemed in bad taste. Wasn’t prayer supposed to be about “spiritual” things?
I’ve been working that one over in my head for more than a year now. I’ve started to see that the distinction between “appropriately spiritual” things and “inappropriately material” things was in my head, not God’s word. Something that has helped, oddly enough, has been friends at church asking me to pray for their needs, things like guidance on a writing project or recovery from the flu. What was I going to say, “No”? Even though I didn’t really understand what I was doing, I did my best to put those requests before the Lord.
Still, it seemed that while it was good to pray for others’ material needs, I was uncomfortable with asking for my own needs. (Could I be sure it was a “want” rather than a “need”?) Even when I was dealing with a severe sports injury this spring, it didn’t occur to me that I could pray about it, until my priest set me straight: yes, I should pray about it. And keep praying about it: it wouldn’t be nagging, it would be persistence, which is a good thing. (So I did; and it made a difference.)
I started to make a little more sense of praying for our “daily bread” through Jesus’ parable of the lilies of the field. I’d been vaguely familiar with it before I became a Christian, and had found it bewildering. They toil not, neither do they spin: since when is this a good thing? Aren’t they lazy good-for-nothings? It made a bit more sense when I actually read it: the focus was not the material things but the command “do not be anxious” (Matt 7.31). OK, I can understand that. It still seemed like more of a nice idea than something I could live by. I mean, it’s great to not be anxious, but if I didn’t “toil and spin” at work, get paid, and go shopping, I’d have no food in the refrigerator.
Then in a re-reading of the passage I caught on to something I’d missed before. After the “don’t worry about your food or clothing” message, Jesus adds that “the Gentiles seek all these things; and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well.” (Matt 7.32-33, emphasis mine). Hold on – Jesus isn’t saying that we should ignore our material needs. He’s talking about priorities: Kingdom first, material needs second. And hey… in the Lord’s Prayer, we ask first “thy Kingdom come, thy will be done” and the very next thing we ask for is “our daily bread.” This starts to kind of make sense.
Understanding that we’re genuinely supposed to ask for our ordinary, daily needs in prayer was helpful… but not enough. I still didn’t really get it. What was getting in the way?
Everything I have has been provided for me by God. Works great as a broad concept. But the devil is in the details, as they say, and when it comes to the details I discovered that my strong desire for control, the desire to claim “Hey, I’m the one who’s taking care of myself!”, was lurking in the background. I have a hard time truly recognizing God’s provision for my daily needs, because my self-will whispers, “Aren’t you the one stopped by Trader Joe’s and paid for the food that’s on the table right now? Thanks, God, but Ive got the daily bread thing taken care of on my own.”
Understanding what’s going on in my head gives me a starting point to work on changing my perspective. In the meantime, though, it leaves me struggling with how to apply “Give us this day our daily bread” to my life in a way that I can connect with.
It was on my trip to England this summer that I finally made a little bit of a connection – enough to make a distinct shift in how direct and open I’m able to be in prayer.
The first day of my two-week trip I came down with a nasty cold. Fever, sore throat, nasty cough, sleepless night. Exactly what you don’t want when you’re just starting a long-anticipated trip with lots of great stuff to do and fascinating places to see. Under normal circumstances I’d go into a tailspin of frustration and disappointment.
That’s not what happened, though. When I woke up on the second day, feeling lousy, I suddenly realized that no matter how much I wanted to be healthy, I couldn’t make myself get over this cold by force of will. It was out of my control. And I thought: Perhaps I ought to turn this over to the Lord. So I asked, “Lord, please make me well enough today to make it through this day and enjoy this wonderful opportunity that You’ve given to me. Just today, that’s all.” And d’you know what? I got through the day just fine. I wasn’t tip-top, but as long as I took it easy, I could enjoy myself.
And so the next day: “Lord, thank You for keeping me well yesterday. Please keep me well this day, so that I can appreciate this beautiful place.” And He did. And the next day. And the next.
It finally brought home to me something of what it means to pray for “our daily bread.” I could cooperate with God’s work in taking care of me (drinking more liquids, getting some extra rest, taking cold medicine), but on a deep level I recognized that I was dependent on Him for my health. I found myself able to turn each day over to God and trust that He would do right by me. And He did.
I didn’t always feel great, but even from that experience, an unexpected good unfolded. I found that being slightly sick broke down a barrier I hadn’t realized were there. I became aware of my need to rely on Him for strength just to get through the day, and I kept Him much more in my thoughts than I usually do. I also found myself setting things before Him that it wouldn’t have occurred to me, before, to ask Him about. And the result… it’s hard to explain, but a number of times I felt what I’d identify as His guidance. It was very subtle, like a nudge or a gentle tap on the shoulder. For instance, several times I was moved to pause and rethink my plans, even when they seemed quite reasonable. I’d feel a gentle inclination toward a new idea, such as, in this case, to slow down and take more time in one place even though it meant foregoing some of the sights I wanted to see. When I listened, I found things falling into place; I was able to really take in the good things that the day brought me, reflect on them, and find meaning in them. Instead of my trip just being a succession of interesting sights, it became an unexpectedly rich emotional and spiritual experience.
I started to understand what it means to ask for “our daily bread” when I realized it could mean asking for strength for today’s activities; for safety in today’s travel; for understanding of today’s experiences. I asked for those things, finally recognizing both that I needed them and that I could not assure them for myself through my own effort. I asked – and I did receive.
Now I’m home. My self-will has been pruned back a fraction over the past two weeks; now I have the challenge of keeping it from growing back, and of developing the sense of trust that has started, just started, to bloom. I know it’ll be difficult, because at home it superficially seems that I’m in control: my house, my job, my bank account, my food on the table. But it felt so wonderful to actually put my trust in Him for small things as well as big ones; to know that He was with me all the time, not just listening in at church or my nighttime prayers – and to even feel His presence from time to time. That was a great gift and I feel honored to have received it. Now my challenge is to keep moving forward.
So I’ll close with a prayer: Lord, this day please help me to remember to trust in You for all things, wherever I am and whatever I’m doing; help me to be thankful for all that You have given me and continue to give me; and please, Lord, help me be aware that You are walking with me all this day. Amen.
Related posts:
- Praying Where I’m At
- The Spiritual Disciplines: Praying the Daily Office
- What Is Prayer? (2): God Is Not a Vending Machine
- Hail Mary… or Not?
- Wrestling with Contemplative Prayer
4 Responses to “Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread”
Dr Holly Ordway came to Christ through reason, in the pursuit of truth. "In your hearts honor Christ as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect" (1 Peter 15).
She writes about her journey from atheism to orthodox Christian faith in her book "Not God's Type: A Rational Academic Finds a Radical Faith" (Moody Publishers).
Nothing else to add to your wonderful reflection. Amen. Amen.
Hi Holly,
Thanks for these reflections.
This is a difficult lesson to learn.
Karen
Donna, Karen, thank you for your kind words!
As always, wonderful insights. The passage in Matt. 6 about birds of the air and lillies is confusing until you realize the point is they do what God created them to do and He takes care of them. Same with us: We’re made to ‘seek first His kingdom and His righteousness.’ When we do, He takes care of us–even when it comes to colds