Give us this day our daily bread
Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Fourth Week of Lent
John 5:2-9, 16
At the pool of Bethesda, Jesus saw a man who had been ill for thirty-eight years. He asked him, “Do you want to be well?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; while I am on my way, someone else gets down there before me.” Jesus said to him, “Rise, take up your mat, and walk.” Immediately the man became well, took up his mat and walked.
The Linns begin their book Sleeping with Bread with this story:
Following the bombing raids of World War II, thousands of children were orphaned and left to starve. The fortunate ones were rescued and placed in refugee camps where they received food and good care.
But many of these children who had lost so much could not sleep at night. They feared waking up to find themselves once again homeless and without food.  Nothing seemed to reassure them.
Finally, someone hit upon the idea of giving each child a piece of bread to hold at bedtime. Holding their bread, these children could finally sleep in peace.
All through the night the bread reminded them, “Today I ate and I will eat again tomorrow.”
This “simplest book we have ever written” focuses on asking both sides of one question. “What am I most grateful for?” And “for what am I least grateful?” End your day, alone or in communion and discussion with others, asking those reflective, recollective questions.
And in this way I find myself practicing the Examen, examining the good and the bad, what I’ve done and what has been done to me, and talking about it with God.
Imagine the man at the pool of Bethesda. Crippled for 13,879 days, one after another after another. All our lives are like that. We live them one day at a time, one after another, and we can grow accustomed to the repetition and notice nothing. The sun comes up, and sun goes down. Life gets tee-jus, don’t it? We don’t even know it, how we start walking down the flat-line of life outside the Garden of Eden and slowly fall asleep.
But one day Jesus walks up and asks me, “Do you want to be healed?” I want to be alert enough to recognize him, and realize that he’s talking to me! And I want to be ready to say, “Yes!”
So every day of my life, I can ask those simple questions, and notice in my daily rest how I’ve been fed my daily bread. As I fall asleep, I know I’ll be fed again tomorrow, because I am holding the bread of life right there in my hands. And the next loaf … well, Jesus just might be bringing that to me himself.
Wherever your river flows, Father, you provide abundant life. Every day fresh waters for us to drink. Your fruit ripens on the trees and in the fields, and by that harvest we are fed and we are healed. We can hold our loaves of bread, and eat them, and sleep with them and be ready for whatever you have for us next. You alone, O Lord, make us dwell in safety.
http://www.christiancounselingservice.com/archived_devotions.php?article_id=1460
