A friend of ours recently opened an artisan bakery, which I will link to when she gets her internet presence up and running, expected sometime in the next 6-12 months.   She is still firmly in the start-up phase, experimenting to find out where her customer base is.  We would happily be 25% of her customer base, but for her sake, diversification is a smarter move.

    Today we were able to coordinate a rendezvous at the bakery (no regular retail hours yet), and Mr. Boy helped me stick to the SuperHusband’s simple instruction of "Buy too much bread".  Because there is no such thing as "too much" of Heather’s bread.

    This is the real thing, equal to or better than any bread we’ve ever had in Europe.   Fresh from the oven late this morning, eating Heather’s bread was like drinking water.  It just went down and down and down.  Butter, jam, cheese — entirely unnecessary, even distracting from the overwhelming goodness of the bread itself. 

    And this made me think about the words of Jesus:  "Man does not live on bread alone." 

    Eating sorry store-bought bread, or my sorry attempts at home-made bread, I am always inclined to think the follow-on ought to be, "You need to toast it with cheese just to make it edible."   A little better, I take "bread alone" to be a stand-in for "food and water" or "physical sustenance" or what have you. 

    But if you could bake the way my friend Heather bakes, you really could live on bread alone.  You would not get tired of it.  You would eat until you were stuffed and then make yourself quit either to avoid outright gluttony or because there was no more bread.  The prospect of living on a diet of bread and water would not seem penitential, it would seem exciting.

    Here in the American middle class, it is easy to get caught in vortex of bread alone.  We aren’t (thankfully) so poor that we must beg God for essentials of physical survival.  We aren’t so rich that we can have all the world has to offer, and thereby learn that what the world has to offer is insufficient. 

    For a housewife like myself, it is easy to be always be thinking about building my little domestic paradise, with delicious meals and a comfy home and a cheerful garden, and maybe even some well-behaved and partly-educated children to boot.   Fortunately I am not actually good at creating such a domestic paradise, despite having the financial resources to pull it off,  so I end up turning to God for help on that end. 

    Nothing wrong in asking for that daily bread, as instructed.    Just not the bread alone.  I ought to be longing for His Kingdom to come as much, or more, than I’m longing the daily bread.

   

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