enough

One of the greatest blessings God provides is exactly that: His providence. This morning, I’m wondering if it might be the one I have the most trouble accepting. 

The very first part of Luke 11 tells of the time his disciples wanted to know how to talk to God. Here it is in verses1-4: 

“One day Jesus was praying in a certain place. When he finished, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples.’

“He said to them, ‘When you pray, say:

“‘“Father,

hallowed be your name,

your kingdom come.

Give us each day our daily bread.

Forgive us our sins,

for we also forgive everyone who sins against us.

And lead us not into temptation.”’”

That’s a short version of the Lord’s Prayer, presumably condensed to three essentials: glorifying God, asking for daily bread, and confessing sin and asking for forgiveness. And the one that struck me was the request for daily bread.

Why not a week’s worth of bread? Why not steak and ice cream? Why this simple request for enough basic food to get through today? 

This morning I read this as guidance to live today in God’s presence, trusting him for whatever I need. And then, do the same tomorrow, and the day after that. One petition for daily bread at a time; child-like trust for each 24-hour period.

I take some pride in having provided (so I imagine) for myself. From a point well below the poverty line, Dawn and I have built a comfortable life, with a secure future that includes (so my financial guy tells me) a worry-free retirement. When I’m not thinking about it, I assume that I’ve secured my food (a lot better than just bread) myself, and way beyond one day.

That’s the danger of affluence; it dims my appreciation of God’s providence. More so, it can make me hostile to it. I remember living day to day and I didn’t like it. I don’t really want to do that anymore.

The problem is, this is devil-talk. Satan wants me to pile up money and stuff and persuades me that security comes from my treasure pile. Americans have completely lost the concept of enough; we want excess, plenty, too much. We’re not happy unless we have more than we can use. Every night we scrape extra food into the garbage (well, Dawn and I remember being poor so ours goes into Tupperware). Enough is for people who can’t compete.

But I think God calls us to aspire to exactly that, to know when enough is enough and not reach for more. Where he blesses us with more, it isn’t really for us, it’s for his people and his work. His providence, when it goes beyond enough, equips us for giving, not hoarding.

Can I really pray just for today’s bread? Can I be satisfied with enough?