…we can feed the soul-starved of this world by sharing our broken selves…
I come from a long line of food lovers, and some of my strongest memories are connected to family kitchens I remember in snap-shot snippets. It’s no surprise to me that I feel closest to God when I bake. It was only last year when I felt Him smile at me over a pan of chocolate chip cookies.
Recently when the walls caved in a bit, I sought refuge in my kitchen.
Elbow deep in flour, I plunge my hands down into the dough–fold and press, fold and press. I consider, after a few minutes, that perhaps I have over-worked this boule. Still working the dough, I wonder how it might turn out. Have I ruined it with all of this handling? …
