Give us this day . . .

I won’t write about your heart’s desires, your needs, your wants, or your preferences. It would not be fair, nor prudent; and in many cases it would not be possible. They are ultimately unknown.

But, I do know mine. Most of them are easy to identify, and I will address them in general terms in the hope that you can take something, make application, and benefit in your own life.

I want to know Truth; that is my highest heart’s desire. This Truth is also called God and many other names. Some of those names are descriptors or qualities or actions, more than a name, but you understand my meaning, I am sure. My other heart’s desires are all corollaries to that, believe me. Every one of them. Or maybe there is actually only one other true heart’s desire. They are things–not things, of course–but things that I need in order to fully pursue my highest. We are made that way, and it is a genuine need by design. And it follows, then, that they become a want and a preference. Sometimes they all merge, and it strikes me as beautiful when there is a confluence like that . . .

Okay, that’s all cleared up now, and I hope it helps. We each have other desires and needs, and it’s nice when what we want is also what we need. And preferences are mostly harmless, but not always.

Every day you go through various aspects of each of the elements of whatever confluence occurs in your life. You know what mine are now, in general terms, starting with the highest.

So, on a day-to-day basis we can ask God for luxury: “Give us this day . . .” And he gives it.

Then we can address our needs: ” . . . our daily bread.” And he gives it.

And God does know all the rest, as well as any beautiful confluence and elements thereof.

And he reads our hearts because he writes them when we are willing. And he just does not stop; he keeps giving.

He takes the sustenance of “daily bread” and transforms it into blessing. And he keeps giving.

He brings to the table the one thing that can adorn bread to its improvement. He brings butter.


Photograph © 2018 Timothy Waugh