I dissolve honey in a bowl of very warm water and add yeast. I watch it sit and feed on the honey, bubble, foam, expand alive and warm in the bowl and I bend over waving my hand to stir the yeasty fragrance up to my nose. Inhale the scent of what’s living right there in bowl, already rising, to take the grain into its life for purpose prepared. The good work has begun and I dip my finger into the honey. Taste it.
And I don’t mind. I’ve decided it’s best not to because the alternative…minding the dust while it settles…is an exercise in frustration. So I don’t mind as I make slow progress and it comes to me that this is what it’s all about. It’s the something-somehow process of a good work that Jesus comes in to do.
Not minding looking like I really don’t know what I’m doing, but doing something good anyway. Not minding that I clearly don’t know exactly how to go about it, but going about it somehow. Something-somehow.
“What’s this all about, Lord? The honey, oil, flour and yeast. The flour dust. And why did You want to talk about Emmaus?”