Baking with Love

There is something sacred about baking sourdough.

It begins with a living starter that has to be fed and nurtured. It requires patience, attention, and trust. You can’t rush the process. The dough rises in its own time, teaching us that some of the best things in life can’t be hurried.

As I fold the dough, score each loaf, and wait for the oven to work its magic, I’m reminded that God often works the same way in us. He kneads our hearts with gentle hands, stretches our faith, and allows seasons of waiting, not to delay us, but to develop us.

When the timer goes off and I open the Dutch oven, there’s always a moment of anticipation. Each loaf is unique. Some have dramatic ears, some bloom with melted cheddar and jalapeños, and others are beautifully simple. Yet every one tells a story of time, care, and love.

Maybe that’s why I love baking so much. It’s more than making bread. It’s slowing down enough to notice God’s goodness in ordinary moments.

Bread has always been a symbol of God’s provision. Jesus called Himself the Bread of Life, reminding us that He alone satisfies the deepest hunger of our souls.

So today, as these fresh loaves cool on my counter, my heart is full of gratitude. For the hands that knead, the God who provides, and the reminder that the sweetest things in life are often made slowly.

Baked with love. Shared with joy. Given with gratitude. ❤️🍞