Writing for my blog took a backseat in my thoughts during the month of October. In fact, I also haven’t written anything toward my current WIP since I arrived at Shabbat services on October seventh to discover that evil had ramped up its game. What followed has left me dumbfounded, angry, but also with an overwhelming desire to speak truth. And not HL Gibson’s truth, but rather Adonai’s truth.

If you spend any time perusing my blog or social media, you’ll come away with a very good idea of who I am based on what I believe and how I write. Transparency on my blog is always my intention because I want to forge a connection with my readers. This is why my blog has a relaxed presentation that invites comments. I want to have a conversation with you rather than have you feel that I’m constantly trying to sell my novel, Realm, to you or preach at you about writing.

So, the purpose of this post is to help me build back to a place of peace. More than ever, people need to make strong connections to help each other through the dark days. I hope that you’re encouraged to do the same, especially if you’re one of the creatives. A return to art and the creative process is healing from the inside out.

I started by trying a new challah recipe that I’m sharing with you. The simplicity of making bread starts as a return to routine and the need to keep my hands busy so that my brain doesn’t overload. It’s always so beautiful as the dough comes together and, even though still raw, smells delicious.

The first rising time is best used for studying scripture and reading. Dividing the dough and braiding each half into loaves is a time for prayer for those who will eat the challah and anyone who comes to mind. The second rising time is when I organize other parts of my day into productive tasks. The beauty of the whole process is that I’m practicing the concept of laboring so that I can enter Adonai’s rest and experience true shalom.

Peace is the goal here, but bread is the reminder of what is important to me, and what’s important is peace. It’s cyclical! It’s also a reminder that family and friends are the true treasures braided into my life. Making the challah is a blessing because it occurs in my little home, where we’ve lived safely for thirty years with a parade of pets from the four-footed to the winged to the finned. (Although I still don’t have a horse.)

Most importantly, making the challah is a warning—yes, warning—to not mistake complacency for peace. It’s work to not become so content that I drift into decadence and laziness. The next step is indifference and forgetfulness, and every stage of that downward spiral is a bad place to be. It is a grave danger to ignore the truth, no matter how painful, because then we become useless to ourselves and others when we fall into the wrong belief that the evil taking place out there will never touch us.

Bread is life, and life must be fought for. I cannot always predict when and where the battlefronts will open in my life, but I can be prepared to fight that evil even if it’s through the simple task of baking challah. I will stare evil in the face and say, “You will not disrupt my process. Not today.” And then, in the name of Adonai, I will share the fruits of my labor, the work of my hands, with those I love, thus defeating evil.