Are You Adding More Flour: What Your Actions Reveal About Your Faith

Jason has been on a bread-making kick lately. Not content with simply buying a loaf at the shop like a normal person, he has become fascinated with grinding his own grain and making bread completely from scratch. So there we were one evening, the two of us snuggled in bed, watching a bread-making tutorial on YouTube.

That's when the real entertainment began.

The instructor was enthusiastic and clearly knew her way around a mixing bowl. But every few minutes, she would look straight into the camera and announce with great confidence, "Now, you really don't need to add any more flour here." And then, without missing a beat, she'd reach right into the flour bag and dump in another handful.

A few minutes later: "I'm going to add just a tiny bit more, but honestly, you really don't need to do this." In went another scoop.

By the fourth or fifth time, Jason and I were laughing so hard we could barely breathe. Every time she said "you don't need to add flour," in went more flour. Her mouth was saying one thing. Her hands were doing something else entirely. And she didn't even seem to notice.

I couldn't stop laughing...right up until the moment I stopped laughing.

Because somewhere between the giggles, a thought rolled in like a storm cloud: How often do we do the exact same thing in our Christian walk?

We say, "God is in control," and then lie awake at 2 a.m. running every worst-case scenario through our heads. We talk about forgiveness on Sunday and hold grudges by Monday morning. We post Bible verses on social media and then snap at the checkout cashier over a pricing mistake. We quote "love one another" and gossip about Sister So-and-So before we've even made it out of the parking lot.

Our mouths say one thing. Our lives keep adding more flour.

The Bible doesn't soften this truth. In Titus 1:16, Paul writes plainly: "They profess that they know God; but in works they deny him, being abominable, and disobedient, and unto every good work reprobate." He isn't describing people who never heard the Gospel. He's describing people who know all the right words, show up, sing the songs, say the prayers, and then go home and live as though none of it means anything.

And here is what should sober every one of us: the watching world doesn't really care much about what we say. They're watching what we do. They're watching how we treat our families when we think no one's looking. They're watching how we respond when life doesn't go our way. They're watching what we're like when the pressure is on and the cameras are off. That's the testimony that sticks.

The apostle John put it plainly in 1 John 3:18: "My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth."

Words are cheap. Deeds tell the real story.

Now, I'm not suggesting we must be perfect. We certainly won't be on this side of glory, and the Lord knows it. But there ought to be a recognizable, growing consistency between what we claim and how we live. People aren't looking for flawless Christians. They're looking for real ones. Ones whose peace is evident even in the middle of a storm. Ones whose joy doesn't evaporate the moment life gets hard. Ones whose love isn't just something they believe but something others can actually see.

Here's a question worth pondering today: If someone were to follow you around for a week, watching how you handle disappointment, conflict, worry, and heartbreak, would the life they observed match the faith you profess?

Or would they just watch you keep adding more flour?