THE BREAD THAT KEEPS US NEAR

 THE BREAD THAT KEEPS US NEAR

Not the feast that makes us forget,

not the table that numbs the need—

but the simple breaking

that remembers hunger

and calls it holy.

Bread—

not as abundance,

but as nearness.

It comes without spectacle,

without excess,

without the noise of more—

just enough

to keep the heart awake.

Each day it arrives

like mercy measured,

like grace portioned

for a soul that must return again.

For if we had everything at once,

we might wander—

full hands,

empty remembrance.

But this bread

teaches rhythm.

It teaches waiting

without despair,

receiving

without grasping,

trusting

without seeing tomorrow.

It is the quiet tether

between heaven and dust,

the thread that binds

need to provision,

earth to God.

Give us this day—

not because You lack abundance,

but because we lack remembrance.

Keep us near

by giving us enough.

Enough to hunger again,

enough to ask again,

enough to know

we are not the source

of what sustains us.

For distance grows

where self becomes sufficient,

where storehouses replace prayer,

where memory fades

into possession.

But here—

in the breaking,

in the daily,

in the not-yet-filled—

we remain.

Hands open.

Hearts aware.

Souls turned toward You.

This is the bread

that does not let us drift.

This is the gift

that holds us close.

Not by filling us completely,

but by keeping us

continually Yours. 

Steven G. Lee 

April 28, 2026