Give us this day
The inviting aroma of toasting bread wafts out from the kitchen.
How wonderful the blessing of a home-made loaf of bread from friends.
For a husband hurriedly getting ready to leave for work while the sky outside holds firmly onto its deep midnight blue hue and all the household is fast asleep and still, save for the low hum of the electric ceiling fans.
For two preschoolers, tumbling tousled, out of bed, roused by a mother’s water-chilled palms, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes, clambering onto the chairs at the dining table and watching with anticipation as the jam jar is set out and pats of butter sliced into a dish.
Chilly morning. Warm breakfast. Satisfying crunch of floury crust. And springy white crumb. Covered in sweet, sticky, yummy strawberry jam. And golden yellow melting butter.
A husband’s growling stomach settled.
Children stepping out the door, putting on shoes, each gleefully munching on their third helping.
A wife and mother’s tired spirit encouraged.
Two arduously slow-passing weeks attending to the demands of the workplace, and too precious strands of time desperately gripped with all might to preserve the sanctity of the needs of home.
Our friends, they could not have known, that their thoughtful gift became much more than just bread to us, on several levels.
But God must have known. He always does.
By his hands we all are fed.
Thank you, Lord, for our daily bread.
God is great and God is good,
And we thank him for our food.