"Give us this day our daily bread."

We are spoon rest people. I don’t know that I have always been a spoon rest person, but I am now and so is my spouse. Maybe it’s because we do a lot of cooking and canning and have old, New York vanilla-colored laminate countertops that stain just at the thought of tomato sauce, or maybe it is for some other reason entirely. I don’t know. All I know is that–as for me and my house–we will have a spoon rest by the stove. 

The other day my spouse brought home a thrifted spoon rest (see photo). Since they brought it home and washed it up, I have been captivated by it. It’s nothing fancy. Just silver in color, with a person cutting wheat with a scythe in the middle, and the words, “Give us this day our daily bread” inscribed on it. Nothing lavish. Heck, it may not have even been a spoon rest in its previous life. But those words…

Yes, we say them every week when we pray the Lord’s Prayer during worship. Some of us say them more often than that as we pray the Lord’s Prayer in many other contexts. And yet, I can’t help but wonder how often we really THINK about the words we’re praying–especially THOSE words:  “Give us this day our daily bread.”

When I really think about it, I don't really know what my daily bread is. How do I know I have been given it if I don't know what it is? Is it literal food? Is it love? Does it have something to do with my bank account or my credit score? Seriously, what IS my daily bread, and do I have it?

Truthfully, I think the answers to those questions and more vary from person to person. However, I do think that–whatever our daily bread is–it is far LESS than we actually think it is. 

Some of you know I have been working with a dietitian to help me with my type 2 diabetes (diagnosed over a year ago now) and to help me lose weight. And as I have met with her, I have learned that what my body actually needs to live and function, and what I have been giving it to live on and function on are two VERY different things. Often, I find that I am actually still hungry once my body has what it needs. In a very real way, my “daily bread” doesn't feel like it's enough.

Which got me wondering about all of the places in my life where I feel like that. Like what if God is helping provide my daily bread in my marriage, and in my job, and with our kids and parents, and I'm saying, “But it's not enough!”? So I am hustling to get more--More love. More accomplished during the dayI try to be everything to everyone everywhere all at once, all so that I can receive the more I think I need. 

But somehow, it's never enough. It never fills that ravenous hunger inside of us enough to actually satisfy. 

I think when we pray, “Give us this day our daily bread,” it's not so much a cue for God to rain down manna from heaven. It's a cue for us to pause. To breathe. To notice. It’s a cue to step back from the frantic hustle of our lives and ask: What is truly enough for today? Not for tomorrow, not for five years from now, but just for today?

When we pray those words, we are not just asking for sustenance—we are learning to trust that what we have today can be enough. That God meets us in the middle of our ordinary kitchens and chaotic schedules, not with excess, but with enough. Enough energy to get through the next meeting. Enough patience for our children. Enough clarity for the conversation ahead. Enough presence to be still for a moment and rest.

The thrifted spoon rest by our stove reminds me of that. That “daily bread” might look like a text from a friend at the right moment, a belly laugh in the middle of a hard day, a cup of coffee that tastes just right, or the courage to face one more unknown. It might be small. It might not seem like much. But it is enough.

So maybe our prayer isn’t really “Give us this day our daily bread” as much as it is “Help me see the bread you’ve already given me today.” And maybe that’s where the miracle lives—not in having more, but in recognizing enough.

I'm on this journey with you.
Pr. Melissa

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