Tag Archives: money

Bread

Remember how the Lord your God led you through the wilderness for these forty years, humbling you and testing you to prove your character, and to find out whether or not you would obey his commands. Yes, he humbled you by letting you go hungry and then feeding you with manna, a food previously unknown to you and your ancestors. He did it to teach you that people do not live by bread alone; rather, we live by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.

Deuteronomy 8:2-3 (NLT)

0ba91485c7df4270596d55070ffba1bf

Benjamin Franklin wrote in a letter dated 1789, “Our new Constitution is now established, and has an appearance that promises permanency; but in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.”

January is the month to collect the various statements needed to figure out taxes. Yesterday, I glanced at one, as I opened the mail, before putting it in the pile to give to the accountant. I paused as I did a mental rough and dirty calculation of how we are doing.  For most of us, when retirement hits there is a finite stack of money out there with our name on it and this letter proved it was not infinite. Troubling thoughts tumbled around later as I was falling asleep.

This morning, the gloom remained hanging over my head. (Notice, I said my head because I was still trying to figure it out in my mind.) I opened my devotional book in the still, dark hours of the dawn and read the verses Moses spoke to the children of Israel to remind them of God’s care for them in their wanderings.

I stopped reading when I got to the word bread. Bread is slang for money. (Light bulb moment.) But it didn’t stop there. Not only did He provide for their physical needs, He created something entirely new to meet those needs in a better way than they even thought was possible.

Both guilt and praise hit me. Guilt that I would even be worrying about this and praise that God will meet my needs in ways that I can’t imagine. He doesn’t need my help. He’ll just create something new. No worries.

And then—joy.

Thank you, Father, for taking care of your daughter…now and forever.

Share