Trust The Rise: Preparing For My First Farmer’s Market

A Yes That Stirred Up the What-Ifs

When the email arrived from the Clarksville Downtown Market telling me I had been accepted as a vendor, two feelings showed up at the same time.

Excitement.

And fear.

For a moment I simply stared at the screen. Then the familiar chorus of what-ifs began to gather in my mind. My thoughts ran ahead of me, trying to plan every detail of something I had never done before.

Sobriety has taught me to recognize that voice.

It’s the same kind of future-tripping that used to dominate my days. The mind races forward, imagining problems before they exist, trying to control outcomes that haven’t even begun.

The questions came quickly.

How many loaves should I bake?
Should I offer different inclusions?
Do I add bagels, cookies, muffins?
When does the prep begin?
When do I actually start baking?

Before long, the excitement I had felt just minutes earlier had turned into something closer to panic.

The Practice That Grounds Me

In moments like this, I return to the practices recovery has given me.

I breathe.
I pause.
And I pray.

There is a kind of surrender that doesn’t come from giving up but from letting go of the idea that we must solve everything ourselves.

Once I stepped back from the noise in my head, something shifted. The answers didn’t arrive all at once. They came the way guidance often does now in my life—quietly, piece by piece.

I felt it again, that steady reassurance that God has His hand in my path. Over time that trust has become part of who I am. When fear begins writing stories in my mind, faith reminds me that I am not walking alone.

The market begins May 9.

The Right Help Appears

Almost as if on cue, another piece of the path appeared.

I received an email from one of the baking communities I joined when I first started baking with my Simply Bread Oven. What began as an online group has grown into something that feels more like family. In that space no question is dismissed and no baker is made to feel foolish for asking. People share knowledge freely and respond with kindness that is rare on the internet.

Today I’ll be joining a workshop called:

“The Micro-Baker’s Guide to Crushing Your First Farmer’s Market,” led by Alisha Fuller.

The focus is practical: how to plan what I can realistically produce, how to build a bake schedule that won’t leave me panicked the night before market, and what it actually feels like once the morning rush begins.

All the things my mind was trying to solve alone.

What Bread Keeps Teaching Me

Sourdough has a way of reminding me how life works.

A loaf does not rise because we worry about it. It rises because we tend to it faithfully and then allow time to do its work.

Measure.
Feed.
Fold.
Wait.

My life has begun to follow that same rhythm.

When fear starts whispering its what-ifs, I return to the practices that ground me—breath, prayer, community, and small action. Slowly the path becomes visible again.

Once again I’m reminded that sourdough has given me far more than bread. It has given me a daily way to practice faith.

Trust the process.
Let go of the old fears.
And rise.

Warmly,
Kathy
Art of The Crumb