Original Photo Source: Moyan_Brenn_BE_BACK_IN_SEPTEMBER, CC-BY, via flickr
Give us this day.
The words are simple. I have heard them a thousand times, and even memorized them along with the rest of The Lord’s Prayer. How many times have I even said them head bowed eyes closed? But, the other day as I sat there beyond exhausted, trying to focus on the words in front of me, they had a new meaning.
Not praying for the rest of your life.
Give me today everything I will ever need so I can feel happy and secure.
Not praying for the future.
Would you please give me, at some point, the things I need.
Not even praying for something grand.
Give me today some steak and caviar.
But enough of the subsistence of bread then to get through that day. What you need in that moment from our Heavenly Father.
Give me today my bread.
The trust and faith that He will keep giving it daily.
Give me today my daily bread.
A simply humble plea full of necessities met, and faith they’ll continue to be met.
It has been a very long few weeks. A car accident. A newborn. Sleepless nights. An older brother and sister who were struggling to adjust to the new baby around the house. New food intolerances to work around, including my fall backs of eggs and dairy.
That day might have been the worse though. The children were not listening, Valerie had screamed most of the day, Natalia chronically disobeyed, and I yelled more times then I care to admit.
I try so hard to do better. I make lists. I make goals. I read books. But, as I am reading Heaven at Home my son and daughter tag team to flood the kitchen floor and off to bed, without even the proper discipline, just the angry picture of a mad mom to “learn” to do better next time.
Give me this moment, the patience I need (to one more time tell my daughter to not touch my i-phone. To discipline, and disciple, in a loving gentle manner).
Give me this moment the strength I need (to make yet another meal).
Give me this day the drive I need (to keep my home).
Give me this day the joy I need (to smile at the kids I love).
Give me this night the rest I need (to wake refreshed).
Give me this day the freedom I need (to say yes to a walk).
Give me this day, my daily bread.