Two things I ask of you, Lord; do not refuse me before I die. Keep falsehood and lies far from me; give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, ‘Who is the Lord?’ Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God. Prov. 30:7-9 (NIV)
Heavenly Father, this portion of your Word carries a warning that’s both well-founded and timely. Of late, things, for the most part, have been going really well. I’ve been in a steady stretch of encouragement, joy, and hope. It’s not that I’m doing anything differently, or that I’ve deserved a break; it just seems like I’ve been enjoying a little more of the “already” than the “not yet” of our life in Christ. I hasten to say, thank you, Lord. Oases in the journey Home are awesome, but not to be confused with Home.
This “stretch” of oasis-like calm has underscored the sanity of a prayer like this one offered by Agur: “Lord, don’t give me riches, lest I have too much, disown you, or live as though I don’t need you.” Father, that prayer will only be prayed by somebody rich in your grace and rooted in your love—somebody that’s learned the seductive and destructive power of money.
By your providence, I live in a culture and community of abundance—one in which you can easily become a spiritual add-on; an important, but non-essential part of life. While many pray for daily bread, I can afford to throw away moldy bread. May I never forget, “The love of money is the root of all kinds of evil” (1 Tim. 6:10); but the love of the Jesus is the route to all kinds of freedom.
So, by your Holy Spirit, always be intensifying my love for Jesus. Keep me humble, stunned with gratitude, and increasing in generosity. May the gospel continue to change and re-set the price tags in my life, Father. Grant me quick repentances from every expression of entitlement and presumption, spoiled-ness or an unhealthy dependence on creature comforts. So very Amen I pray, in Jesus’ exalted and treasure-worthy name.
