Give us this Day Our Daily Bread - Stelios Ioannides
Here's a thought experiment: Imagine waking up tomorrow and knowing, with absolute certainty, that you'll be provided for. Not just materially—but emotionally, spiritually, in every way that matters. Now imagine doing that without frantically planning, hoarding, or controlling every variable. Sounds impossible, doesn't it? That's because dependence doesn't come naturally to us. We prefer control and security. Yet Jesus places this impossible-sounding request right at the heart of how we're meant to pray: "Give us this day our daily bread."
On Sunday evening, Stelios Ioannides walked the 5.30pm congregation through one of the most memorised yet least understood lines in all of Scripture: Matthew 6:11. As part of the ongoing series As in Heaven exploring the Lord's Prayer, Stelios unpacked how this simple petition reveals something profound about daily dependence on our Heavenly Father—and why that's so much harder (and more freeing) than we might think.
You can watch or listen to the full sermon below.
Why Didn't Jesus Stop After "Your Will Be Done"?
Stelios began by asking a pointed question: Why didn't Jesus end the prayer after the first three petitions? We've already prayed for God's name to be hallowed, his kingdom to come, his will to be done. Surely that's enough, isn't it? If anything were to be added, it would need to be not only urgent to Jesus, but also—because Jesus reveals the heart of the Father—of utmost significance to God.
The answer is simple and startling: What's left to pray about is you. Your needs. Our needs.
The Lord's Prayer is structured in two halves. The first three petitions are entirely God-focused: your name, your kingdom, your will. The second three shift to include us: our daily bread, our debts, our deliverance. As Stelios put it:
"Jesus has laid the prayer blueprint. God first, then us. God first, then us. Because it's when we arrive to daily bread where all of a sudden Jesus' prayer evolves from 'Father, your glory' to 'Father, I want your glory through me.'"
This isn't just a shift in grammar—it's a spiritual alignment. Unless we truly seek God's honour and kingdom first, we'll end up praying for bread in a kingdom we don't even want. We'll treat God like a spiritual genie—someone we only contact when we need something—rather than a loving Father whose presence we long for daily.
What Is Daily Bread, Really?
So what does "daily bread" actually mean? Stelios was quick to clarify: Jesus isn't promising a daily bread delivery service (though that would be nice). Rather, as theologian J.I. Packer puts it, "daily bread is a stand-in for all of life's necessities and the means of supplying them."
Stelios displayed a list of words on the screen—things like purpose, joy, shelter, courage, forgiveness, clarity, rest, strength, humility, wisdom, hope, patience, love. These are daily bread. This is what we need. And it's a lot for anyone to carry on their own.
Here's the beautiful and confronting truth: It's not selfish to pray for your physical, social, personal, and spiritual needs. In fact, Jesus prioritises it. After praying for God's will to be done on earth, the very next thing he tells us to pray for is our daily needs. Jesus knows the heart of the Father—he is the heart of the Father—and what the Father wants is close relationship with you.
"God cares about what you need. Jesus says in the same chapter, 'Your Heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.'"
Daily bread isn't ultimately about food—it's about learning to depend on God for everything.
The Israelites, Manna, and the Trap of Hoarding
To illustrate this kind of radical dependence, Stelios turned to Exodus 16, where God provides manna to the Israelites in the wilderness. Fresh out of slavery in Egypt, the people began to grumble. Incredibly, they told Moses they'd rather go back to being slaves—at least then they had food.
Now, that sounds wildly ungrateful. But as Stelios observed, it's also incredibly human. We all seek comfort. We all cling to what we know.
God's response? Not anger or lightning from the sky—but provision. Quail in the evening, manna every morning. But there was a catch: the Israelites were told to take exactly what they needed—no more, no less. If they tried to hoard the manna, it would breed worms and rot.
"The bread symbolised the sustaining of their physical body, but underneath it there was a spiritual trust in God. God was saying, 'Depend on me. What I'm giving you today is enough because tomorrow—don't worry about tomorrow—there will be more again.'"
That's the crux of daily bread: living in constant dependence on God, one day at a time. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Today.
Childlike Faith and Letting Go of Control
Stelios pressed into what this dependence looks like practically. He invited the congregation to think like a child. A child can't provide for themselves—they can't earn money, cook meals, or secure their future. A healthy child doesn't stay awake worrying about tomorrow's breakfast. They trust their parents will provide.
We, as Christians, are called to that same childlike faith.
Stelios offered a vivid image: a child standing at the edge of a busy road, cars racing by. One child might dash across on their own. Another, uncertain, looks up to their parent, holds their hand, and trusts them to lead safely.
"In the same way," Stelios said, "we must trust in the will of our Father who sees things we cannot."
But here's the trap: we hold on to God when we need him—when the road is busy—and then let go when we feel safe. That is not living into daily bread. When we let go of God's hand, we quickly find ourselves lost again.
"God does not want the perfect you. God wants the honest you. And when you don't trust God for daily bread, you pass those burdens on to everything else, everyone else, except to the one who wants it."
The Hardest Prayer: "Lord, I Don't Want It"
Stelios then challenged the room with a penetrating question: Do you really believe that God is a caring Father who can provide you with life's necessities, or not?
The answer to that question isn't found in whether we memorise or recite the Lord's Prayer—it's reflected in how we live in surrender. Do we want God's kingdom, or ours? God's church, or ours? God's ministry, or ours?
As Christians, we find it easy to ask God for what we need. But it's incredibly hard to ask God to take away what we don't need. Stelios admitted:
"Some of the most difficult words I've ever prayed are: 'Lord, I don't want it. I want to give it to you. I'm giving up my self-centredness, the parts of me that want to control, the parts of me that are prideful in thinking I'm always right and need no correction.' Because in doing that, that is childlike faith. That is daily bread."
Praying for daily bread, then, is not just asking for provision—it's requesting God's presence into every facet of your life. Your emotions. Your burdens. Your worries. Every fibre of your being that yearns to see his kingdom prevail forever and ever.
One Way to Live It Out This Week
This week, commit to praying for daily bread—honestly. Each morning, before you do anything else, sit quietly and name one thing you need today. Not tomorrow. Today. It might be courage for a conversation, patience with your kids, clarity for a decision, or simply peace in the midst of grief. Tell God honestly what you need, and then say, "Father, I trust you today."
A Short Prayer
Father, we confess that we often cling to control rather than rest in your provision. We try to carry burdens you've already offered to take. Teach us what it means to depend on you daily—not out of desperation, but out of trust. Help us to wake each morning and say, "You know what I need, and I trust you." Give us today our daily bread. Amen.
Personal Reflection
What does "daily bread" look like in your life right now? Is there something specific God is asking you to trust him with today?
Stelios said, "God does not want the perfect you. God wants the honest you." When was the last time you brought your honest self—your fears, failures, and frustrations—before God in prayer?
Are there areas of your life where you're still trying to "hoard manna"—where you're clinging to control instead of surrendering to God's daily provision?
Small Group Discussion
Read Matthew 6:25–34 together. How does Jesus' teaching on worry connect to the petition for daily bread?
Stelios highlighted the shift in the Lord's Prayer from "your kingdom" to "our bread." Why do you think Jesus structured the prayer this way? What does it teach us about how we should approach God?
The Israelites were given just enough manna for each day. Why do you think God didn't let them store it up? What does that reveal about his character and his desire for our relationship with him?
Stelios asked, "Do you really believe that God is a caring Father who can provide you with life's necessities, or not?" How would you honestly answer that question? What in your life either confirms or challenges that belief?
Reflect on the image of a child holding a parent's hand to cross a busy road. When do you find it hardest to "hold God's hand"—to stay dependent on him even when things feel safe or under control?
Stelios said, "It's easy to ask God for what I need. But it's so hard to ask God to take away what I don't need." Is there something in your life—a habit, possession, ambition, or relationship—that you sense God might be asking you to release?
What does "childlike faith" look like in your everyday life? How can you cultivate that kind of trust and dependence?
How can we pray for one another this week—specifically around the theme of daily dependence on God?