20 April 2012

Good Intentions


I have a hard time walking out big changes sometimes. So used to being one of the group. Going along with the general consensus. Known as the compliant one. Agreeable. Easy. Malleable. Yet there is another part of me that struggles for independence. To take a stand. Be different. Weigh the risk and take the chance. For years I have been attempting to bring a more healthy sense of purpose to our family's eating habits. Always thought we were doing quite well actually. Applesauce and raw carrots, veggies with dinner and bananas at breakfast. No more than 1 or 2 sweets a day. Not bad really.

But there was much more to it. I hadn't even opened the door to the possibilities. And now with our 4th little one on the way and a lifestyle focused on family and self improvements, trying to be the best we can be, do the best we can with what we're given..how can I ignore the truth about what we're putting in our mouths? it is astonishing to see the reaction when I attempt to share what I'm learning.

Chewing gum destroys digestive juices and includes the same additives as jet fuel and embalming fluid.

The reasonably safe, simple, healthy looking light yogurt or the vibrantly colored ice pops that used to fill our fridge and freezer contain dyes that cause cancer, the same ingredients as the petroleum we put in our cars.

The sugars in that innocent, refreshing can of soda I used to look forward to at the end of the day eventually build up to cause tumors within our liver and digestive organs that will most likely lead to some form of cancer...

The supposedly healthy fruits and veggies I would fill my cart with and take pleasure in watching my kids consume are coated with more than 10-20 different pesticides which cause organ decay and illness..not to mention possible cancers..

And milk and butter and cheese..the hallmark of our meal tables come from cows that spend their days standing in their own manure..overworked to the point of exhaustion. The female cow spends the majority of her life milking. For us it would be the equivalent of running 8 hours a day, 7 days a week. What is the quality of that milk we're gleaning from this type of animal? Shot up with hormones. And even more disturbingly cows stomachs do not contain the necessary enzymes to digest the corn which is their main diet. So we shoot them up with antibiotics and hormones to help their bodies digest it. So all of this goes into the meat and milk we consume. Not to mention the GMO (genetically modified) corn they are fed..

I'm not going to shrink back or be embarassed to be different, to ask for more. To want something better for my kids, for my husband, for myself. Just because everyone else does it, just because you grew up that way and it hasn't seemed that harmful does it mean nothing is happening inside of you? How can you guarantee the outcome of this type of eating years down the road?

If we spend the time to educate and clothe and give our children the best start we possibly can in every other area, how can we explain to them why we didn't teach them how to make wise choices with their eating, help them understand how to take care of their bodies? There really isn't an excuse. This isn't no big deal. It's worth the time and money to make this difference. Spend a little more buying the right food. And in the long run you'll spend a whole lot less on medical care. And they will learn an important lesson on what it means to be intentional.

17 April 2012

Ebb


It is coming to an end. This last time to carry a child in my womb. And the sweetness carries its drop of bitter. The flutters, the tiny kicks, the melon shaped belly..all signs of the beauty, the wonder, the inexpressible, unbelievable miracle of being one who carries life.

A life carrier. Holding it within myself. And yet fair to bursting to let it out. Soon he will come and the fresh pressed sheet in the cradle will be weighted with a downy head. Nights of semi deep sleep will give way to cracks of morning, slivers of night..weary and wonderful moments of coming to know our little visitor.

Try to hold onto to the precious, the infinite, the irreplaceable moments in this time before birth. In these moments of expectation, of waiting, the laboring and wondering and watching will be over in a flash. And he will be here.

And suddenly this season, this beautiful ripe rich season in my life will give way to another. May my hands open willingly to embrace it. May I not hold on so tightly to this sense of self, this identity in carrying and giving life that I forget to treasure my own. May I ever see the beauty, the magic in the growing gangly, gap toothed tribe that gathers around the dinner table each night. May I find intoxicating their seasons of growth as I watch my own. May we all grow together, underneath and understood by the One who gave life to us all...