I'd like to be the type of woman who has a real rhythm to her home-keeping.
Rising, praying, preparing meals, and cleaning all in a fashion that remains steady through the years—a beacon to my children, a reminder of something constant.
Instead I'm more of the fall-in/fall-out-of-step sort. Life tends to bump me here and there, and I regroup as best I can and keep moving. I don't often tend to one thing steadily, all the time.
And so it is with bread.
For as much as I'd like to make it all the time, the true story is that I make it sometimes. But sometimes is enough to know that when you're mixing a thing like dough, you've got to really mix it. There is no part of your hand that is spared as you dig your fingers in.
If you want bread, every bit of salt, water, flour, and yeast has to come together.
In the parable of today's Gospel, Christ tells us that the Kingdom of Heaven, which we understand to be the living Body of believers united to Christ Our Head, will indeed infuse the world with the light of Christ.
But we've got to be mixed and tilled, into the world and into the culture, to set down the roots of evangelism and grow. There is no standing on the surface for us Christians, just as there is no yeast floating at the top of the batch.
The beauty of this is that life offers us no shortage of opportunity to enter in as leaven and seed. You may not be called to the mission field or to the convent, but the world is at your fingertips.
Enter in; enter deeply. And He shall renew the face of the earth.