When Karen and I were dating, we would go to Logan’s Roadhouse at least once a month. I was nothing if not predictable. I’d usually order a steak and baked potato with a Caesar salad to start.
But before any of that arrived, they brought out the rolls.
If you’ve ever eaten at Logan’s, you know the ones. Warm rolls with soft butter that you could spread without tearing the bread to pieces. I always had to remind myself to slow down because I could easily fill up on bread before my “real” meal ever made it to the table.
I thought about those rolls Sunday morning while we were studying one sentence from the Lord’s Prayer:
“Give us this day our daily bread.” — Matthew 6:11
The more I thought about it, the more I realized I still have a tendency to fill up on things before getting to what I really need. Sometimes, I can even fill up on church.
I can go to Life Group, walk into the worship service, sing three songs, pass the buckets for the offering, listen to the sermon and do everything I’m supposed to do on a Sunday morning. Meanwhile, part of my brain is already thinking about where we’re going to eat or what we have scheduled that afternoon. It’s flag football season, and we have to get to the ballfield early some Sunday afternoons.
I’m at church. I’m participating. I know when to stand and when to sit. I know the songs. I know the Bible stories. I can answer the questions.
And if I’m not careful, I can start playing the church game.
None of those things are bad. We need worship. We need biblical teaching. We need community with other believers. But there’s a difference between showing up at the table and actually being fed.
I think that becomes especially dangerous when you’ve been a Christian for a long time.
People start assuming you’re okay.
I’ve taught Sunday School classes and Bible studies for years. I lead our Life Group. I’ve written books about faith. I’ve written devotionals. From the outside, it can be easy to look at someone like me and think, He’s probably doing fine.
Sometimes I’m not.
In fact, I think mature Christians can become some of the best people in the church at hiding when we aren’t okay. We don’t want to bother anybody. There are other people with bigger problems. Somebody else needs the phone call more than we do.
So we keep showing up.
Karen is good about checking on me, but part of the reason she does that is because I’ve asked her to. I’ve learned that if I need something, I have to be willing to say so.
That requires humility.
James 4:6 says, “But he gives greater grace.”
Thank goodness He does.
Because no matter how long I follow Jesus, I never reach the point where I don’t need more grace. I don’t graduate from dependence on God. That’s something you don’t outgrow.
Maybe that’s part of what Jesus was teaching when He told us to pray for daily bread.
The Israelites learned that lesson in the wilderness. In Exodus 16, they had nothing to eat, so God provided manna. But He didn’t give them tents full of it. They were instructed to gather what they needed for the day. When some tried to keep extra overnight against God’s instruction, it spoiled.
Tomorrow they would have to trust Him again.
I’m not going to lie. That goes against just about everything in me.
I’m a planner. I’m a husband and a father, and I think part of those responsibilities is looking ahead. I want to know where we’re going, what it’s going to cost, what could go wrong and preferably have a backup plan in case it does.
Planning isn’t the problem. Scripture certainly doesn’t teach us to be irresponsible.
The problem comes when our planning convinces us that we’re in control.
Jesus doesn’t teach us to pray, “Give us enough bread that we never have to ask You again.” He teaches us to pray, “Give us today our daily bread.” The emphasis in our Life Group guide this week is exactly that: not asking for a stockpile or a guarantee about tomorrow, but learning ongoing dependence on the One who provides.
I think sometimes God gives us enough to know He’s there because if He showed us the entire plan, we’d run ahead of Him. We want the itinerary.
God gives us the next step.
And sometimes what He provides is simply enough for today.
I have down days like anybody else. There are days when I don’t need God to explain what He’s going to do next month. I just need enough strength, grace or encouragement to make it through this one.
Tomorrow will come. For today, God has given me enough.
Of course, recognizing that requires slowing down long enough to notice it.
One line from Sunday’s sermon stuck with me:
If the devil can’t make you bad, he’ll make you busy.
I definitely feel more at risk of succumbing to busyness than badness.
This past week has been one of those weeks for our family. I’ve been with Brighton most nights until around 9 dealing with Homecoming preparation. Chloe had tennis tournaments three nights, ending with a Championship. There has been work, church, writing, school and all the other things that come with a marriage and raising a family.
Most of those things are good things.
But good things can still make you tired.
As I’m writing this, we’re all sitting on the couch watching a movie. One of the kids is leaning against my shoulder, and another is leaning against Karen.
Nothing exciting is happening. We’re just together.
And sometimes you have to be intentional enough to stop and do that.
The same is true of our relationship with God. I read my Bible before bed every night, but there are nights when tiredness hits. There are times when I’ve somehow had time for everything else but have to fight to make time for God. Those are the times I sit and pray for a moment.
The devil doesn’t have to convince me that reading my Bible is a bad idea. He just has to convince me that I’m too busy tonight and can do it tomorrow. I truly believe that tomorrow is the devil’s favorite day.
Daily dependence requires discipline because there will always be something else competing for our attention.
And maybe that’s another reason God gives us daily bread.
We have to come back tomorrow.
Sunday’s service ended with the Lord’s Supper.
My youngest was sitting beside me, so as the bread and cup were passed, I explained to him what they meant. We talked about Jesus’ body and His blood and why we stop to remember His sacrifice.
Then I did what I do every time we take the Lord’s Supper.
I looked at the bread and the cup. I held them in my hands. I bowed my head, closed my eyes and thanked Jesus for His sacrifice, His blood and the salvation He so freely gives.
It isn’t much to look at.
A small square piece of cracker and a little plastic cup of grape juice.
But they represent so much more.
I don’t believe the Lord’s Supper is something we should ever rush through. It’s too easy for Communion to become another part of the church routine. Take the bread. Drink the cup. Put the empty cup in the holder. Move on with the service.
But after spending the morning thinking about daily bread, I saw that little piece of bread in my hand a little differently.
In Exodus, the Israelites needed bread because they had nothing else to sustain them.
In Matthew, Jesus taught His disciples to ask their Father for their daily bread.
And in John 6:35, Jesus said, “I am the bread of life.”
The Israelites needed manna because they had nothing else.
We need Jesus because we have nothing else that can save us.
That’s the Bread I never outgrow.
After all these years of following Jesus, I still need Him. After teaching classes, leading groups, writing books and raising a family, I haven’t graduated from dependence. If anything, growing in my faith has taught me how dependent I really am.
Maybe maturity in faith isn’t learning how to need God less. Maybe it’s finally admitting how much we need Him.
He was faithful yesterday. He’s given me what I need today.
Tomorrow, I’ll need bread again.
Live It
It’s easy to mistake being around the things of God for actually spending time with God. This week, pay attention to the routines of your faith. Are you being fed, or are you simply going through familiar motions?
Then think about what you’re carrying into tomorrow, next week or next month. Planning isn’t wrong, but worry can make us demand tomorrow’s provision today.
Ask God for what you need today.
And trust that tomorrow, you can come back for bread again.
Go Deeper
Has any part of my faith become routine instead of relationship?
Do people assume I’m okay because I appear spiritually mature? Am I willing to tell someone when I’m not?
Where has busyness interfered with my time with God?
What has God provided today that I may have overlooked?
Where am I demanding tomorrow’s answers instead of trusting God with today’s needs?
How does God’s faithfulness yesterday help me trust Him today?
Dinner Table Devotional
Read: Matthew 6:11 and John 6:35
Talk About It:
What do you think Jesus means when He tells us to pray for “daily bread”?
Why do you think God wants us to depend on Him every day instead of giving us everything we’ll ever need all at once?
What is something God provided for our family today?
What are some things that can make us so busy that we forget to spend time with God?
What do you think Jesus meant when He said, “I am the bread of life”?
Pray Together:
Father, thank You for providing what we need each day. Forgive us when we become so busy or comfortable that we forget how much we depend on You. Help us notice what You have already given us, trust You with what we still need, and remember that Jesus is the Bread of Life. Give us today our daily bread, and help us come back to You again tomorrow. Amen.
I have always struggled to make sure my dependence is on God, and not my stuff, or my experience, or my own wits. Our pastor had a fly-by line in his message last Sunday that stopped me cold: "We live in padded cells in America, of our own making. We are captive to our wealth and security." Ouch. Thanks, Maury!