The Daily Bread

I am sitting here at the table, steam coming off coffee cup, red-tinged sky reflecting on the pond, and the sound of laughter from upstairs can be heard throughout the house.  Peace.  Here in my home among my five, busy, active boys.  Even here there is peace.

Prince of peace, You are welcome here!  Tread our concrete floors and fill our rooms from corner to corner.

I have been such an ingrate lately.  There is no other way to say it. Someone commented to me on how close in age my children are ~ I will soon have six children and my oldest just recently turned nine.  And, when I thought about it, I was even a bit stunned myself.  But, usually I don't even think about it.  I take God's sweet gifts as they come, when they come, and I don't count the years.  But, lately I have been overwhelmed with school and home renovation and baby coming and noise and chaos.  I have spent much of my days not counting gifts, but rather counting the reasons why my cup is too full, too much for me to handle.

But, then comes Perspective, and He meets me where I am.  And, He reminds me that He gave the gifts in His perfect timing.  He holds my world in His sweet hands.  But, mostly He reminds me that for me and Him it is all about one thing...

Trust.

Do I trust Him?

Do I trust that He loves me?  That He has saved me?  That He has my little world in His grip?

Yes, but there is more...

Do I trust that daily as I rise and am overwhelmed, that even then, He can take my offering of myself and make it enough?

Do I trust that He can handle today?

Do I trust that He can teach and train these little hearts and souls through me, today, this morning?

I worry, oh how I worry!  The future how it intimidates and taunts me!  How will the boys end up?  Will they choose Him?  Will they be wise, compassionate, smart, full of integrity and confidence?

Oh, how I try to take the whole of tomorrow into my grasp today.  It is impossible, the weight of it crushes me.  I cannot bear it.

But, I can open my palms to Him today and receive...

When I look up from my computer screen past my sweet steaming cup of peace, I see it.  My daily reminder, hand stitched by my great grandmother...

He doesn't give me the future on a platter.

He doesn't quiet my anxious heart by assuring me that all will be well, that all my children will choose to live purely, wisely, and purposefully.  He doesn't give me that reassurance...

Instead He asks me to...

Trust.

Him.

Daily.

The only assurance I have is that He is here with me today, and He will give me all I need for this day, this moment.  And, because in His vast wisdom, He feels that this is all I need, then I can trust that it is more than enough.  That this portion will sustain.

And, what if I don't get all of Joshua's literature read to him by Friday?  And, what if the new math concept isn't clicking as fast as I think it should?  And, I haven't had time to prepare for my Friday classes? And, the laundry room is overflowing?  And, the floors are covered in crumbs, mud clods, and dead grass.  And, what if the sink is full of dirty dishes, the dishwasher full of clean, and the to do list overwhelms....

I can trust.

And, if I truly trust, I will relinquish my desire to be the one in control, the one who says what must be accomplished each day.  What if I truly trusted that He would allow me time enough, energy enough, strength enough to do all that I need to do today.  And, what if I trusted that it was enough ~ even if we have to go to bed with dirty floors, an unkempt laundry room, and boxes left unchecked on my never ending list.

Trust leaves no room for perfectionism.  Perfectionism's focus is on me, my abilities, my accomplishments.  But, trust's focus is on the Him, the Giver of my Daily Bread, the One Who daily fills my cup.  Has my cup ever ceased to overflow?  Have I ever been left wanting?  Has He ever left me empty?  Haven't I always found Him to be far more than enough?  to be more than faithful?  more than worthy of my trust?

The daily bread is allotted, and it is the perfect portion for this day.  

And, when the new baby comes, and I have to stop teaching to nurse, and when I am tired from being up all night with infant gift, when I rise and look out at pond with red-tinged water reflecting dawn of new day, when my strength is gone, and my eyes are blurry with tears, I can open my palms wide in acceptance.  And, I can trust and know that my hands will be filled, some days to overflowing, some days to smaller portions, but always I can trust that He will allot the perfect portion for that day.  And, that is all I know.  It is all I need to know.  It is more than enough.

Not the future on a platter served by clean, well-groomed hands.

No.

The daily bread.

Handed down from blood stained, nail-scared hands...

to my eager, waiting, open palms.