Pause + Pray

Daily Bread

Basket of rustic loaves of bread


We gather at holy and ordinary tables to connect, to be fed and nourished. What we taste, chew, and swallow feeds our bodies and strengthens us for prayer and service—for dwelling in God. Even while many are hungry, food is sacred and communal; sharing daily bread is a way to connect with Christ.


Bread of Life,
I thank you for the goodness of food.
As I eat my meals and consume my snacks,
may my body receive strength and power
to serve and love you.
As I am transformed
by your presence and power
upon the altar during holy Communion,
may I also be fed by the sacredness
of ordinary, daily bread.


The next time you bite into food, practice “mindful eating.” Say a prayer and pay attention to the sacredness of the ordinary act of consuming creation. Smell the food before you eat it. Pay attention to each sensation as the food meets your lips, as it connects with your tongue, and as you chew. What is the texture of the food? How does it feel to swallow? For you, how is eating a holy experience?


2 thoughts on “Daily Bread”

  1. It’s been said that we are what we eat. But I also think that who we eat with is a significant factor too. I don’t know about you, but I lose my appetite if I’m with someone I can’t stand. For me, eating is mostly a social thing. And yes, it is true that hunger is the best cook. I know that for me when I’m hungry, food tastes differently for whatever reason.

    Even though the people that love me are no longer here on planet earth, I still have Jesus as my companion, and I still like to talk to my parents that have moved on. I don’t feel lonely, thank God. My sister currently lives in the same house as I do, but we barely tolerate each other. She knows I own one half of this house and there is nothing she can do about that. She has her responsibilities, and I have mine. I try and be philosophical about it all as I remind myself that at least she is not evil. Things could always be worse. If she were evil, that would be unbearable, and we would not be living in the same house; trust me, on that one. She’s an adult, so if she doesn’t want to be Catholic anymore, then that’s her problem as far as I’m concerned. I think she has learned one trait from my parents, and that is “respect.” The same can’t be said for some of my other siblings, as for them from my perspective, it is “Out of sight, out of mind.” I know what side my bread is buttered on. The Catholic Church is part of my extended family. I know where I can go, if push comes to shove. I know where love is. Charity is supposed to begin at home. If not there, where? Gosh, I can’t wait to join my parents. They are definitely in a better place. Tomorrow I will be going to another funeral. That’s life; people are born, then they suffer, and then they die.

    1. Let me add to what I wrote above, that when I told one of my parish deacons about my home life and how there is a red line through the middle of our house, he asked whether I was sure it was not a blue line. I told him I wasn’t into hockey but I do have a few missing teeth. So, for those of you who are reading this and want to pray for me, go ahead.

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