“Faith in the Fold-Lessons from a Danish Pastry”
How do I walk in Faith, and what is it to walk in Faith from the eyes of a Home Baker.
DAILY REFLECTIONS
Wandering Armainian
5/28/20252 min read
Having been a home baker over the years and having watched my dear Mom bake, when I was a child many moons ago, I have strongly felt that there’s something quite sacred about baking Danish pastries. The moment I think of Danish pastries, my mind begins to wander around a café. And I have felt that it’s a process of patience, precision, and trust in things unseen—just like faith. The flour is mixed, butter is folded in layer upon layer, and the dough is chilled, shaped, and left to rise. The outcome? Beautiful, golden, flaky wonders that melt on the tongue…. Ah ahaa…ahhha, my goodness!! Even just thinking of it takes me back to WENGERS, New Delhi, India. But none of this can be rushed. If you skip a step, if you fail to fold, if you don't wait for the dough to rise, the pastry will fall flat.
This journey of baking reminds me deeply of Hebrews 11:29:
“By faith the people passed through the Red Sea as on dry land...”
Imagine standing at the edge of an impossible sea, waves crashing before your eyes and your past threatening to overtake you- Pharoh’s army coming charging down. Much like staring at a lump of dough, wondering how it will ever become something beautiful. Faith doesn’t always look like confidence; sometimes, it looks like obedience in motion.
As I roll and fold the pastry dough, I think of the Israelites. They didn’t understand the physics of parted seas, just as I don’t fully understand how layers of butter and dough create flakiness. But they stepped forward. Not because they saw the way clearly, but because they trusted the One who made the way.
Faith, then, is the “must-have ingredient” in a believer’s life. Without it, everything else—our works, our prayers, even our hopes—lose their form, like a pastry with no rise or flavour. It is faith that gives structure to our surrender, and taste to our trials.
So, as I bake today, I fold in not just butter, but trust. I wait not just for dough to rise, but for God to act. I remember that the same hands that parted seas are the hands that shape my life, layer by layer, fold by fold and will continue to do so through the Spirit.
As I close and take leave for today. I’d say:
When faith is folded into life’s dough,
God’s hidden wonders begin to show.
What looks uncertain, vague, and grim,
Becomes a masterpiece—baked by Him.
