A Lesson In Breadmaking

Shortly after Tyler and I got married, I started making homemade bread for us. It’s cheaper for us to make it than to buy it, and I like to bake, so it seemed like a good option. I was raised by a mother that believed that cooking is a valuable skill that everyone should learn. I had my dad’s favorite cookie recipe memorized when I was thirteen, and I have known how to proof yeast since about that same time. However, when I started making bread every few weeks, I learned quickly that I was far from an expert in the bread department, and I was frustrated.

Tyler was a good sport, as always, and he ate the bread, but it was dry and not delicious. It was very aggravating for me, but I also felt like I had done everything right, so I didn’t know how I could make it better. I blamed the failed bread on various things such as the low temperature of our house and the fact that I didn’t have dry milk, so I was using a substitute. Tyler wondered if it was the recipe, but I had tasted heavenly bread from that recipe that my mom had made. Needless to say, I was exasperated.

I'd just like to pause in my story for a minute to explain a few things. I love bread. A lot. I love it more than dessert. I am of the opinion that delicious, well-made bread can change lives and lift hearts. I also don't like failing. Most people don't, but I especially do not like to feel like a failure in the kitchen. I love to cook and bake and make deliciousness, and I'd like to think I'm pretty competent, so this bread was seriously getting on my nerves and facilitating extreme frustration.

Finally, a few weeks ago, I decided to stop making excuses. Obviously, this bread struggle was my own. I determined to make an amazing batch of bread or destroy the kitchen in the process. It was a Saturday, and we didn't have anything to do until quite late at night, so I dedicated my whole day to the pesky bread. I ended up relearning a lesson I've been learning all my life.

Here's a copy of the text I sent to my mom after the bread came out of the oven: "After being married for five and a half months, I made delicious bread today. My secret? I didn't rush the process. How is it that I am still learning that lesson everyday??? The only consolation is that I have an amazing partner that is the best possible teacher for that." I should clarify by saying that I am not an inherently impatient person. I actually am quite patient in some circumstances, but simultaneously, I am constantly looking ahead to the future. I've always been fascinated by what comes next whether that be in life, my day, or even my baking. This is not always a good trait. While sometimes it pays to be thinking ahead and planning, sometimes it filches the joys and wonder of the present.

I was especially bad at this as a teenager. I was always wishing I could just move on with life, and as far back as I can remember, I have had the five years after graduation from high school planned out almost to the month. I'm sure that a lot of the time Heavenly Father was just thinking, "Don't rush me, Ash. I know best." The thing is, my life now was not part of the plan. It's so much better than I could have dreamed. So naturally, after having all my careful planning upended, I thought my lesson had been learned. Evidently not. Maybe I read into my bread making more than I needed to, but I really believe that Heavenly Father was sending me a little reminder not to rush Him or His plan. He knows best, and I know that. Sometimes I just need to be slowed down, and apparently, using bread as an object lesson was a perfect way to communicate the message this month.

I'm still learning this virtue of being still and recognizing the beauty and joy of the moment every single day. It's a really good thing that I married Tyler. He is such an amazing example. He is so good at knowing when we should plan and when it's okay to just snuggle and whisper and play and not worry about our life in twenty years (and yes, I am prone to do that). I'm so blessed to be married to such a wonderful man. He is constantly teaching me wonderous and beautiful things. So folks, don't rush the process, and you may end up with some delicious homemade bread (and a heap of blessings too)!