Lola was a young bride of a Montana homesteader named Warren. She had been orphaned at a young age so she had very little training in being a homemaker. She felt especially inadequate in the kitchen. She hadn’t been able to master the art of bread making. A neighbor lady who had frequently brought food over to Warren before they had married told  her, “Now Lola, you must be able to bake a decent loaf of bread for your husband. Why Warren just loves my bread.”

Lola tried batch after batch of dough but either it didn’t rise or if it did it was too dense or tasteless. She was feeling hopeless and thought she will do one more attempt and then she would give up if it failed again.

So one morning she started a batch. She followed the recipe exactly. She made sure to not miss a step. The dough was perfect. She kneaded it till the dough would spring back when she poked it with her finger. She thought this is it. She proceeded to butter a large bowl to hold this perfect dough. All her hopes laid in this batch. She covered it with a towel and waited for it to rise. She waited and waited. After 90 min and it still stayed the same size with no indication of growth. She was brokenhearted. She thought how can I get rid of this dough so no one will find out she had failed again. She especially didn’t want that nosy neighbor to know.  So she found the most logical place to hide that dough. The chicken yard.

The chickens were her chore. She raised them and no one goes in the chicken yard but her. She grabbed a shovel and went to work at making a hole big enough for this huge lump of disappointment. She had finished patting down the dirt and hiding the evidence. Pleased with her job she went back into the house.  She washed her hands and got to work making biscuits to replace the bread to go with her stew.

Later that day about 3 pm she hears Warren returning from the fields. The screen door opened and she called out “I’m in the kitchen.” She looked up and she sees Warren as he comes in with a mischievous smile on his face. Her welcoming smile faded into a look of horror. In Warren’s arms sat a massive mound of muddy looking dough that was starting to expand over Warren’s hands and was nearly hanging to the floor.

The warm afternoon sun had taken over warming that dough. Warren said he had heard a commotion in the chicken yard and he found a growing mass under the yard. The chickens were squawking and running away from it. Except for a few brave ones who pecked at it. He dug it up and realized what it was. He had to bring it in to show her. Of course his gentle taunting was not meant to hurt his wife but he just couldn’t resist.

This was always one of  my favorite stories told to me by Lola of her days as a farmers wife. Yes, she was my Grandmother. She told me this story one night as she was putting me to bed. She would share how God had worked in her life. How this taught her to be more patient. To wait for the Light of the World to make things happen. That it can look completely hopeless, but if you wait for the Holy Spirit to work, it will blossom. With God, it is all in His timing. We may wait and wait and throw the towel in but just as it seems the most hopeless is when God does the miraculous.

By the way, Grams became an amazing cook and her bread was delicious.

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “Therefore I have hope in Him.” The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, To the person who seeks Him. It is good that he waits silently for the salvation of the Lord. ( Lamentations 3:24-26)