Manly Monday; Give us this day

Thinking of the manly art of husbandry, the Lord's Prayer comes to mind, and specifically Matthew 6:11, "Give us this day our daily bread."  How so?  Let's unpack it.

First of all, it speaks of humble contentment in asking Him for our daily bread, and not our daily filet mignon, Chilean sea bass, eighteen year single malt Scotch, Porsche, or whatever else might be luxurious.  How many men have torpedoed their family's financial stability--and faith for that matter--by giving in to the desire for more and better stuff--the big steaks, the new SUV or sports car, the motorcycle, the library full of rare books, the humidor or wine cabinet, or worst of all, a trophy wife or series of girlfriends.

And if we can trust people like Dave Ramsey, guess who leads the way to bankruptcy for most families?  Sorry, lads, you can't blame your wife's purchases at the latest Tupperware party or beauty salon for this one. 

Along the same lines, getting this book this weekend speaks to bread in a different way; specifically, the reality that bread that's worth eating (as opposed to this stuff) takes some real time and effort--just like marriage.  I've not gotten through the whole book yet, and I've learned that previously, I wasn't kneading the dough long enough, that I was adding too much flour, that I was adding too much sourdough, that my sourdough isn't even a true sourdough, I wasn't letting it rise long enough, and I wasn't forming the loaves correctly.  My work was still better than most stuff you'd find in the grocery store, but I was being hasty, and it showed.

How many of us treat our wives and children like I was treating a lump of dough?  "I want this now, now, now," and because we want it now, we never get "it"--and "it" can refer to any number of things, from a wife's affections to our children coming to know the Savior, no?

The good news is that a bit of patience and a tiny bit of knowledge--really only implementing a little bit the book's recommendations--I managed to create five of the best loaves of bread I've ever created in my life over the past weekend.  One of them--a three pound miche, disappeared in the course of ten minutes after last night's prayer service, and there were not that many people eating it.

So if you need your wife--and you know you do--maybe it's time to follow Peter Reinhart's recommendation and knead your wife.  You know she could do with a good backrub, and who knows what good it will do?