We are having a few people over for dinner tomorrow night, and I thought it would be nice to make homemade buns for the sloppy joes. As it turned out, the only yeast I had in the pantry expired six (yes, six!) years ago. I didn't have time to go out and get more, and I was already in the middle of the recipe (which is the exact opposite of how I taught my kids to cook. I always tell them to get all the ingredients lined up before they start).
So Noah came into the kitchen to find me holding the yeast packet high, praying for it to rise up like Jesus, and blessing it. It was a surprisingly lengthy and heartfelt prayer, after which Noah said, "That's the best prayer over yeast that I've ever heard."
Guess what? The buns turned out just fine.