Our Yeast
“[The Kingdom of God] is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of wheat flour until the whole batch of dough was leavened.”
If we are the flour, God is the yeast. He, the yeast, keeps pouring into us until we’re leavened. He keeps giving. He keeps sharing. He keeps loving. He keeps mixing more of Himself into us - He blends Himself into us - just like yeast into flour.
And He leavens us. He makes up for our lack. He smooths our broken and jagged pieces. He fills the lack. God folds Himself into me; He mixes His Spirit into mine. And I become new because of what He adds to my heart. Because…
It’s not about the flour; it’s about the yeast.
When He gives Himself to me, it’s impossible for me to remain unchanged. When flour and yeast are mixed, the flour is no longer flour - it’s something new; it’s something better. It’s impossible for the flour to be indifferent to the yeast. It’s simply not possible. There’s a whole new chemical composition to the dough.
When the Father adds Himself, adds yeast, it’s impossible for us to remain only flour. Like the dough, when He puts Himself inside of us - inside of our hearts, inside of our minds, inside of our souls - we become something brand new.
God changes the whole chemistry of who we are.
For good. There’s no going back, because, like dough, once you add the yeast you can’t simply pluck it out. Yeast is tiny. Mustard-seed tiny. There’s no fishing yeast out of your dough. Once it’s in, there’s no going back. It’s there to stay. Just like the Father.
Every yes you give to the Father is a little bit more yeast in your dough. And the more yeast we have, the more we become like Him. As we become more receptive, we’re able to hold more of Him and to carry more of His Kingdom. And as our capacity to hold Him expands, He gives us more and more of Himself. And the more we have of Him, the more we become like Him. And the better we are. And suddenly,
When He leavens us, the lines blur between where we end and He begins.
That’s what I want. I want to be so good, so holy, so kind, so pure, so virtuous, so generous, so much of every good thing, that each person I encounter can’t tell where I end and where God begins. Or where God ends and I begin. I want the line between us to be blurred. I don’t want dough that’s streaked with good or has clumps of good - I want dough that is smooth, that is blended, that is well mixed, that is ready to be kneaded.
God gives just a little yeast and my flour flourishes. Just a tiny bit of yeast mixed in with my flour creates bread. It creates something new. It creates something that grows, that transforms, that nourishes. I want that. I want to grow, to be transformed, to nourish those around me. I want to be leavened bread. I want to be changed by God, by the Kingdom, by the Spirit living within me. I want the chemistry of my heart to be changed.
Father,
Thank You for being the yeast. Thank You for making us a better offering. Thank You for wanting to pour into us. Thank You for giving us more of Yourself. No amount of thanks would ever be adequate.
Father, I want to be a woman, we want to be women, who welcome You. We want to be women who welcome transformation - to offer our ordinary flour and let You turn it into dough. We want You to turn us into something that can bear fruit, something that can nourish. Please come and be our yeast, Father.
Father, change me. Transform me. Please be the yeast to my dough. Please turn on the mixmaster and weave Yourself into me more deeply than ever before. I don’t want people to know where I end and where You begin. I want to be that holy. I want to be a living saint for You - for Your glory, Father.
Father, I love You. Please make Your home in me. Amen.