If life really is like sourdough
If the rain gathers in silver streaks on the hosta leaves
If this granite patio holds steady like rock under my feet
Then why is there strife?
If yeast permeates the air and flour grows on a stalk
If water bubbles up from the ground
And mixing them together brings me bread
Why can’t I get it right?
If words are flung and cortisol floods
If thunder cracks and foundations rock
If my shoulders rise and leak out my eyes
Where on earth is the Light?
It’s all around you
In all I made
No excuses, no need to be afraid
I am for you
I am with you
Remember the tomb is where I laid.
Lay it down
Wait on Me
I will lead you
To your death.
Die in me and you’ll find life
You’ll have new eyes
My Spirit in you
Come with me
There’s never life without sacrifice
Death in life
Hope in torment
Spring births after winter
Come and rest.
Just like dough, right?
Measure flour, mix the water
Let it rest
Then fold and pound it
Sometimes I’m confounded by what grows, how you did this
How tomatoes green to red in this sun and so often I’m
Impatient
Want it now
But fermenting takes a long time
Through a dark night then the rising
And the oven of affliction
The development of crust around the tender, flexing gluten.
You’re not hurried,
Let the process do the rending
Tear the dough, the kneading’s mending
All around me you’re creating
Things expanding, stars are singing
Help me yield and trust Your tending
You are good, forgive my doubting.
perspective 