Kneading Peace: João’s Journey from Crisis to Crust

Kneading Peace: João’s Journey from Crisis to Crust

João Almeida used to walk in drought and smoked Angolan fields, distribute sacks of corn with his grim but optimistic heart. For years, he had moved through refugee camps and emergency clinics, bringing aid where hope had long been exiled. And he took his work very seriously, for him it was more than just a career- it was a sacred calling - to heal broken bodies and comfort crushed spirits.

However, this has changed after the pandemic. The ideology that had been promoting development and humanitarian endeavours had been shoved on to the back bench as priorities had changed resulting in the contraction of resources. Conflict zones too shifted. And João was working in the organization which decided to downsize. Thus, at 52, Joao was back in Coimbra, Portugal, at his former house in the Arco de Almedina sitting in his old home looking at silent streets staring at quiet streets instead of chaotic camp lanes. His heart ached for the purposeful urgency of the field, and he wondered whether he could ever feel that same deep fulfilment again.

He by chance turned to baking. And it all began with baking a loaf of broa de milho -a Portuguese cornbread-a family delicacy following the traditional family recipe. And its glittering crust caused a tinge of joy. And before long he was all engrossed each morning baking the unsophisticated sourdough, sweet honey pao de Deus, and spiced aromatic olive-oil rolls from his home kitchen, which he had extended a bit to make some space to for a worktable. Customers trickled into his kitchen, drawn by the warmth of fresh bread and João’s quiet smile.

Still, something bothered him, and he seeded lost at times, asking himself, ‘could he really be content kneading dough, after years of serving the world’s neediest?’ He worried he was wasting his gifts, which baking bread could never match the glory of feeding entire camps.

One evening, feeling exhausted, João sat stretched out on his old rocking chair sipping some hot green tea as he reread Philippians 4:11–13, a verse he had shared so often with refugees and teammates. “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances… I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” These were the lines by the famous tentmaker and apostle Paul himself.

And suddenly, those words seemed fresh and new to him. João realized that Paul had faced hunger and plenty, mission fields and prison walls, and yet his contentment never changed, it stayed the same, because it rested not in what he did, but in who Christ was for him.

João allowed that proposition to sink in. God had succeeded in taking him through disaster areas; surely, HE could carry him through the quiet rhythm of baking. He began to regard every loaf as a gift, every customer as an individual who was hungry not only for bread, but also the kindness and welcome. The bakery had turned into a sort of sanctuary now, and its sweet aroma of warm yeast dough reminded them that God still provided, in a new way and in abundance.

João discovered that both contentment and heroism were had nothing to do with the news headlines, but it was the manifestation of Christ, which gives strength in distributing grain in the camps or when cutting fresh broa (corn bread). His new mission was so simple but sacred too- to feed people not only with bread but with grace and he had to believe that God could use even the simple flour and yeast for His glory.

In the quiet hum of his bakery, João discovered a peace far deeper than circumstance, the same peace he had once carried through desert winds, now resting, warm and gentle, in the breaking of daily bread.

João, in his kitchen ( Just an imaginary frame )