Leaven — even packaged, it’s alive.
(Just dormant, at present.)
Like most of us, yeast needs
- a little warmth
- some food
- and room to grow
Because I’m using dry yeast, I “proof it”:
- Sprinkle yeast over lukewarm water
- Stir in sugar
- Dance for 10 minutes
While set aside, the leaven starts “budding.” Who else in early March wouldn’t welcome a small domestic sign of Spring— aside from the annual cleaning list?
Yeast cells are bona fide (“in good faith”) fungi, one of earth’s oldest microorganisms.
I’m feeling somewhat aged, myself, by virulent infection. I long to see something rise.
And today, it does.
I make a well in the dry ingredients, pour in the bubbling foam.
Unanswered health questions clamor. I knead them right into the dough.
Why this, why now?
How much longer?
When will you answer, God?
Audible
We smell leaven, see its effect, savor its taste and texture. While my dough rises, I research yeast.
In 2001, nanotechnology leader Jim Gimzewski wondered if live yeast cells might pulsate, producing detectable sound.
Using an atomic force microscope, he and assistant Andrew Pelling measured vibrations at roughly 1,000 times per second. They fixed the microscope’s delicate probe in place like a record needle, resting atop the cell’s membrane.
When they amplified the sound, ethereal notes (C-sharp to D above middle C) filled the laboratory.
Journalists have compared the subcellular tones of yeast to the eerie whistling of whales.
How like the Creator to hardwire music into eccentric locations.
In my kitchen, I lean over the bread bowl, lower my ear, hold my breath …
Today, tomorrow, and yesterday
Because yeast cells with genetic mutations make slightly different sounds, researchers hope doctors might one day be able to eavesdrop on our cells, perhaps heading off disease before symptoms arise.
Thank you, Jim Gimzewski and Andrew Pelling. Years from now, someone battling the superbug, C. diff, as I am, might experience swift intervention.
The idea raises my spirits. So does that warm, yeasty smell in my kitchen.
Thank you, ancient Egypt,
for your unearthed
blueprints of bakeries—
4,000 years old—your hearty
loaves, shaped like birds
and fish of the Nile.
Thank you, Master Leeuwenhoek,
first man to view yeast
under a DIY microscope,
and Louis Pasteur, for explaining
how yeast works, and
dear Fleischmann’s®, supplying
our great-grandparents with leaven,
and decades of recipes, passed down.
Such a simple, sensory way to join hundreds of thousands who’ve waited, and prayed, and baked, and waited some more, for hope’s leaven to work.
And thank you, “O Thou who, in the fullness of time, didst raise up our Lord …”*
“… we rise up and stand firm …”
until, at last, we too are golden.
Blessed. Broken. Passed around.
Health Update: I’m on a new 3-week round of medication. I see an Infectious Diseases specialist in one month. Thank you for your ongoing concern and prayers! By next post, I hope to report the long siege is over!
You might also like Longing: What it Wants, Where it Points
Read more about Sonocytology (the study of cell sounds) here
*A Diary of Private Prayer, John Baillie
Loaf photo, Monica Grabkowska on Unsplash
Oh, I pray the new round of medication works! This post of information and inspiration from yeast is fascinating.The fact that it “sings” is amazing and delightful. I love when research and discoveries reveal new specimens of God’s wonders. As always, you have found the uncommon in the common, Laurie, and turned it into a thought-provoking, encouraging meditation. Thank you!
Nancy, thank you so much for those prayers. And for your affirmation of the words gathered here. Like you, I relish learning about the dynamic discoveries scientists make—especially those that point to the One behind all wonders. 🙂 Wishing you and your household robust health and peace!
Oh my, I hate to chuckle at your expense, dear friend, but when I read “dance for 10 minutes” I nearly spit out my coffee.
S u c h a long ordeal you have been through, tres difficile in every way, indeed.
The way you see things because you’re looking….and then share them with us, well, it encourages me. And? I learned the meaning of “bona fide.” Of course.
In good faith…. may God bring healing to you soon, in good faith!
May as well cut a rug while waiting, yes? Feeling glum and busting a move cannot inhabit the same room. It tickles me that a chuckle arose. I would never wish to waste good coffee, though. 🙂
Thanks for cheering me on, Jody. I’d always assumed bona fide meant real, or genuine. I was checking the spelling and whether I needed to italicize it when I found the literal meaning. Beautiful, isn’t it? Makes you want to live into those two small words for the rest of whatever days we are granted.
Hi Laurie, While backtracking, I found the Cyber Refresh blog which included a video. I was disappointed because it was “unavailable.” Do you know what I might do to access it? I haven’t seen you dance for many years and would love to view the video. Also, I ate up, excuse the pun, the recent blog about the songs from yeast! Fascinating info that once again unveils the wonders of God.
Good morning, Niki!
I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to help you access the video. Perhaps they shut down my account because I didn’t keep adding more entries. Thanks for letting me know.
I’m so glad you enjoyed reading the inside info on yeast 🙂
Laurie – have you heard of barley water for the cdiff? My husband contracted it and I found the barley water is an old remedy. He unfortunately passed away from other complications before I could find out if it worked.
Good morning, Kristen. I’ve not heard of this remedy but will research it this morning. Thank you for telling me!
My post has likely stirred up sorrow and painful memories. I’m praying you sense God’s tangible comfort and kindness today.
“Yes, please Lord–Great Physician, Creator of musical yeast, Wisdom-giver–please let Laurie give us the glorious report of Your complete healing.”
Oh this is sweet to my eyes, Carol. Thank you for that prayer drenched in joy and belief!
“… we rise up and stand firm …”
until, at last, we too are golden.
Blessed. Broken. Passed around.
Oh yes, Laurie. And amen. So be it. In His perfect timing, nor are we idle on the way. Praying for you – spirit, soul, and body, you beloved of the Lord ~ Nanc
Nancy, the thought of prayers lifted in my behalf is a powerful gift to me today.
Thank you, too, for sharing the lines that spoke to you, and for being a trusting friend alongside on the way.
You’re welcome, Laurie. The golden gift of being restored is His very nature. Eat a slice of warm bread for this German girl 🙂
Toasted with butter and jam, mmmMMM. I’m part German, too 🙂
A lovely post. You’re story of bread is your story of broken pieces broken and lives feeding all who love and listen. You will heal!
Gena, thanks for standing alongside, cheering me on. Where would we be without the Bread of Life? So grateful for your faith and our sisterhood in God’s family. xo
❤️
Thanks, dear friend, for steering me toward the research. And, as ever, for reading and responding. Love you!