A Liturgy for Making Things from Scratch
“This arena of cooking and food is also where I experienced the greatest culture stress and shock. I love the people here, and there are elements of the culture I find endearing. However, when being in this place messed with my ability to cook for my family, I struggled.”
Guest article by Sarah Long
A little over a year ago, I hopped on a plane with my husband and our young daughter and moved across the ocean. For years, we had been praying and planning for this day. We participated in trainings about living overseas, received our undergraduate degrees in ESL education so we could teach in a different country, and completed courses on what felt like every element of what it means to live as an expat. However,I soon learned some elements of expat life can’t be taught via a training—they have to be experienced.
One of the first things I realized after moving to Central Asia was just how different cooking and providing for my family would be. Staples of my stateside cooking—cheese, prepackaged breads, boxed broths, and a lot of choices from the freezer section—were either no longer available, ridiculously expensive, or just plain bad. Granted, I wasn’t much of a chef while we were living in the States either, but this change of location made every part of trying to cook more difficult.
It was a humbling experience to essentially learn to cook all over again. When I first started, I kept thinking how crazy it was how much more time I was spending cooking and prepping. I had to do all of these things from scratch. Gone were the Hello Fresh meals that could be on the table in twenty. Gone were freezer meals which only needed half an hour in the oven before dinner time. This was one learning curve they didn’t cover in any of my training.
This arena of cooking and food is also where I experienced the greatest culture stress and shock. I love the people here, and there are elements of the culture I find endearing. However, when being in this place messed with my ability to cook for my family, I struggled. Why don’t these people have pre-made chicken broth? Why don’t they have any healthier bread options that aren’t hard as a rock? Do we really need to have two different carbs at every single meal?!
While I don’t think I’ll ever understand pairing plov (a rice dish) with a side of bread, I have come to appreciate that in everything I eat or make, there is a process. In Philippians 1, Paul says, “...he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus,” (NIV, Phil. 1.6). When God called us to Himself, He didn’t leave to go do something else. He called us, and now he is actively working in our lives. He is a Father deeply invested in the process of raising his children. Like cooking a meal from the beginning (chopping veggies) to the end (serving it), God is involved in every element of our growth.
One of my favorite things I’ve learned to make from scratch here is bread. There is something sacred about working my hands through a pile of dough. Something satisfying. Something holy. In those moments, I create as my Father creates. As the Potter shapes and molds his clay, I shape and mold my loaf of bread. And this thing I am creating will provide sustenance for myself and my family.
I’ve had to learn to do so many things I never even considered doing before moving to another country. Making things instead of buying them was certainly not on my to-do list in the States. Why spend time making it when you can simply go buy it? It’s no wonder, then, why I felt so much bitterness and frustration for the first several months living in Central Asia, at all of the things I had to spend extra time doing to get a meal on the table. However, slowly but surely, the Father has been taking that frustration and giving me a new perspective on what it means to provide and what it means to create.
I encourage you, the next time you think, “ugh, I wish I could go buy this item at the store,” to pause and consider the gift the Father is giving you. He is allowing you to see the process of creating from start to finish. We are all in the process of sanctification. When I bake bread, I imagine the joy of my Father, who was there when we were beginning our journeys with Him. He was there when we were formed, indeed He formed us. He has seen our trials and our victories. He has seen our struggle and our growth. And one day when we enter into heaven to finally be with Him, we will see the joy on His face as he tells us, “well done.”
A Liturgy for Making Bread
Father, Provider, Creator,
We are made in Your image.
We are Your workmanship created to do good works.
You created the heavens, the moon and the stars,
Who are we that You are mindful of us?
You show us a glimpse of Your love in the relationship between a father and a child.
You show us a glimpse of Your love in how abundantly You provide for our needs.
You show us a glimpse of Your love in our inherent desire to create, as You created us.
As my hands make this bread, may Your hands sanctify me.
As I add my ingredients one at a time to create a dough,
Add to my heart joy, hope, compassion, love.
As I combine the ingredients together,
Combine my desires into your will.
As I transfer my dough to the mat,
Transfer my love for You into the act of loving those in my host country.
As I knead the soft, warm dough,
Knead through my soul and rid me of anything that will inhibit my growth.
As I form the dough into a loaf for baking,
Form me more and more each day into the likeness of Your Son, Jesus.
As I patiently wait for well-risen dough,
Remind me that You are at work in the waiting
As the aroma of fresh baked bread permeates my home,
Let my life be a pleasing aroma to those around me.
As we savor each morsel of bread,
May we remember that You alone are our daily bread.
Amen.
This guest article was written by Sarah Long. Sarah is an expat living in Almaty, Kazakhstan and is originally from Knoxville, Tennessee. She is a wife, mom, and follower of Jesus. Her favorite pastime in her city is exploring all of the different coffee shops available. She is an artist, a baker, and an avid reader.