Our Daily Bread

 Bread is one of my most pleasurable life indulgences. It's not good for my waistline, but it tastes incredibly delicious. Even just the smell of it can make my mouth water. Give me some cold butter (no substitutes!) and I'm a happy woman! Any other bread lovers out there? I get this love of bread from my dad. We often teased him about how happy it made him when they brought a fresh bread basket to the table at a restaurant. But seriously—I was no less happy than he. 

Bread is mentioned often in the Bible. In fact, I was pretty surprised when I googled the number, and found it is mentioned around 492 times. That's a pretty remarkable number and causes us to take note, recognizing it has extreme significance in God's Word. Perhaps one of the most notable Bible references that comes to mind is how God sent manna to sustain the Children of Israel in the wilderness. Each day, He sent what was necessary to fill each of them with their necessary food as this delightful bread was provided early each morning. The taste of manna is described as wafers with honey. I'm sold!

But the next mention of bread that stands out to me is in the Lord's Prayer. He states, "Give us this day, our daily bread." Now I believe this prayer includes our physical need for nourishment, but also—so much more. I think of this statement being whispered from our own lips in situations that call for help. Help that doesn't include physical hunger but reveals a need—needs that express a void or a situation that distresses us—a place only the Lord can fill.

"I don't know how we will pay all the bills this month!"

(Give us this day, our daily bread)

"I have no idea what to do about the state of my marriage!"

(Give us this day, our daily bread)

"How can I go on without her?"

(Give us this day, our daily bread)

"I feel so stressed out with all these deadlines."

(Give us this day, our daily bread)

"I feel inadequate as a wife, a mother, or an employee."

(Give us this day, our daily bread)

Scripture refers to Jesus as the Bread of Life—our Sustenance and our Sustainer. He isn't just the Provider of our food, but the Provision for our every need. When we are stressed, worried, afraid, insecure, or sick—He is our Bread. He longs to fill our hearts and minds—not just our stomachs. 

Whatever has you emotionally bogged down, whisper words of invitation to our Bread of Life—words that ask Him to fill the needs you have today. He created you and all of creation. He conquered the cross. He rose from the grave. He saves us from hell. And as we read in the Bible a handful of times: "Is anything too hard for the Lord?" The answer is no. 

Life is difficult and full of situations that distress us, and sometimes—life just hurts. But we aren't without hope. We haven't been left here to flounder on our own. Jesus—our Bread of Life longs to sustain us. We can face the impossible with expectance. As much as our shoulders want to droop and our breath may become short and shallow, we have every reason to stand tall and run the race set before us. Whatever is troubling you, release it at the feet of Jesus. Recall His great power and His perfect ability to stand in the midst of your inadequacies—even if it's just a whispered prayer for Him to supply your daily bread.

Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst (John 6:35, ESV)."

I Wasn't Ready Yet

 I received a message through my Instagram account the other day, and something in it really struck a chord with me: "I wasn't ready, yet", she said. I've said it, and maybe you have too. How many things do we not feel ready for? I know for me, the list would be pretty extensive. In this particular case, she wasn't ready for words of hope—because sometimes, we feel the need to flounder in our grief and pain as we grapple with reality. We wrestle with our shocking feelings surrounding painful circumstances, and need to spend some time there.

I can relate. I have my own lapse between discovery and the quest for healing. Or maybe that lapse is really just the very beginning of the process that leads us to healing. When we receive shocking news—whether betrayal in our marriage, the death of a loved one, a serious diagnosis, or some other painful discovery, our initial response is not usually acceptance—that comes later in the grieving/healing process.

It helps to know this is a natural response for most humans. It doesn't make me a bad person or a bad Christian if I spend a little time between discovery and acceptance. It doesn't mean I don't believe God is good—but it does mean my faith in His goodness is being called to the test, even as He patiently waits for me to learn to trust Him with this hard news.

The truth is, when I hear something especially difficult, I like to nurse that pain for a while. Whether it's minutes or days, those feelings match the bad news. I need time to properly grieve those hurts and disappointments before I feel ready to move on and move forward—maybe you need this space too. But even in those days of nursing my wounds and floundering in my feelings, I'm still so deeply touched with His tender presence—giving comfort until I'm ready. 

I lost a dear friend this week, and I wasn't ready to hear she had passed away. I had hoped for healing—healing that would place her back in this world—healthy and whole and pouring herself back into her family and friends once again. We prayed and we believed, yet God took her home. I feel pain over our temporary parting—space is needed until acceptance comes. God knows. He understands our need for this time, yet it won't stop Him from planting precious truths into our hurting hearts. This is the soil needed for future acceptance—knowing He deeply cares for our hurts and pains.

Maybe you're somewhere between hard news and acceptance. Maybe you're wrestling with the darkness of those painful feelings—the deepness of grief. Maybe you don't even want to think of God, and are pressing against His longing to comfort you. If He is in control, then He could have allowed a different outcome—different news than what you're facing. Does He care for your hurt and pain, and does He understand the feelings we face as we grieve? He does, friends, He does.

We need days where we wallow in the bad news and we ask God, "why?" And while it's a natural part of the process of grieving, let us not stay stuck there. The truth is, bad news will come to us all at some point in our lives—and it seems more and more often as we age. Sin has broken this world, and it's broken us, too. That's why we desperately need Jesus—the God of all comfort. 

Maybe today you don't feel ready to accept whatever it is you're facing. Maybe you just want to nurse your pain another day. Maybe you aren't ready yet—ready to move forward. To accept. To heal. To trust God with your broken heart. Maybe today, hope doesn't feel possible. But tomorrow is a new day. Pray about your heart. Know that Jesus cares so very deeply for you. His ways are best, even when they hurt. 

We don't always need to know why, but eventually we must accept the present reality. We must remember God's faithful love, and that He works all things for good–even when it doesn't feel good. One day, you'll be ready, and one day you'll look back and see how far He's brought you. Don't spend too much time wallowing and nursing your pain—you have big things He has planned for you—things you don't want to miss. You aren't alone in this—He is always with us. So today in that space between hard news and acceptance, may you feel His love beckoning you to trust Him. May you learn to lean into His tender, strong arms and carry you through. He is our Good, Good Father—every single moment of every single day.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God (2 Corinthians 1:3-4, ESV). 

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds (Psalm 147:3, ESV).