From day one of my sourdough journey, I knew there was a deeper story hidden in the flour and water. Meet Vera, an old name you don’t hear much anymore, which means Faith and Truth. It felt fitting for a journey so rooted in both.

That first day with Vera reminded me so much of the day we accept Christ. There’s an overwhelming rush of excitement, a fresh spark, and you just can’t wait to go out into the world and share it.

By day two, that joyful energy is still carrying you.

But then comes day three.

And day three stinks.

Suddenly, I found myself staring at the jar, wrinkled nose and all, wondering what I had done wrong to make it smell like that. But as any seasoned baker will tell you, this is completely normal. All the bad bacteria is bubbling to the surface, fighting for control before the good yeast can take over.

It’s a messy, necessary purge—so much like the way we must die to ourselves daily, letting the Holy Spirit clear away the old nature to make room for the new.

From there, the rhythm begins.
Vera keeps growing, but then I have to stir her up and knock her down. It feels a lot like what the world does to us—deflating our spirits and pressing us down.

Yet, every single day, I return to feed her. It’s a quiet, daily commitment, mirroring our own walk of faith as we feed our souls through Scripture, persistent prayer, and staying rooted in Christ.

Watching this process makes me realize how these few days in the kitchen mirror an entire lifetime of walking with God. Growth takes time, and the daily maintenance can feel repetitive.

My first loaf is still waiting in the future, and while I’m waiting, I’m learning to be gentle with myself. I am still growing and making multiple mistakes daily.

Honestly, my first attempt at baking a round loaf might not turn out perfectly. It might be flat, or heavy, or misshapen—and that is completely okay. Because the true beauty of this journey isn’t about flawless execution on day one; it’s about the faithful, real-time process of being shaped over a lifetime.
I know that eventually, all of this daily discipline, the knockdowns, the nourishment, and even the failed attempts will be rolled together into something magnificent.

It is the ultimate promise of our faith: the day Jesus calls us home, the refining process will be complete, and we will finally be made perfect, whole, and beautiful when we see Him face to face.