The moment my boy was born I reached out my hand to touch him-any part of him would do.  My fingers wrapped themselves around his little hand before he was taken away.  When they returned him to me he he was bundled up so tight that I could only see his face.  I unwrapped him-paying attention to every single feature-then very slowly wrapped him back up.  It reminds me of a teaching tool my friend Misty uses to explain the layers of protection we put on children when they are young. 

Holding them when they cry.
Feeding them when they are hungry.
Kissing them when they are hurt.

We put layers of protection onto our kids while they are young to prepare them for when those layers begin to come off.  

A grandparent passes away.
A dog dies.
A risk must be taken.

At twelve years old my son and I are beginning to remove the layers.  Some slowly and with discussion and others quick as if to ease the pain...like a bandaid.

While I can no longer cling to him that doesn't mean I have to completely let him go.  Rather, I can simply be present, stay close, and hold space for those moments that he does need only his mama.  They are getting fewer and farther apart, but they are still there.  And when those moments come they are pure treasure.

In this space I hold for him I'm learning more about who I am.  I'm drawing more near to God.  I'm becoming the person he needs me to be right now.  Preparing for who he will need me to be in the future.  For one-third of my life he's been in it and we are approaching the time where parent becomes friend, acquaintance, sharer of a mutual experience.
 
I'm becoming not just the mother he was born to, but the mother he would have chosen had he been given the choice.  What honor he is gifting me.

I'm laying down the fear that the adult relationship with my son will be any less or more distant than the relationship I will have with my daughters.  No stage of life is better or more rewarding than another-it's how we approach them that matters.
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I'm thankful for the young man he is becoming.  Thankful to be his mama.  Honored to be preparing him for everything the world has waiting for him.

Happy birthday my sweet boy.

To truly value motherhood is to accept the new limitations put on women as they are physically, spiritually & mentally pushed in new ways raising a baby through childhood and into adulthood.  Mothers become limited of extra time, find themselves constantly distracted, their conversations are broken, and yes-the occasional absent mindedness becomes her new normal.  While accepting these limitations with thoughtfulness and consideration is a great place to begin-offering her space to work through them on her own can be helpful at best, and excruciatingly isolating at worst.  These changes to her mind and spirit are intended with purpose for a stronger connection to her child, but there is more to her as a woman than just "mother".

We can stand to be more open to what these changes (challenges) in motherhood are doing to build wisdom and insight within her.  Similar to any challenging experience in life, but with the value of personhood attached to the hip.  May we even take the time to pursue her, invite her, engage her, communicate with her, even develop systems that welcome her to participate.  What if more mothers were encouraged to deeply participate within their community while engaging their children at the same exact time.  Imagine a baby at breast while a mom sits in a board meeting, a child standing alongside mom while she presents to a room full of professionals, children at the feet of a mother who discusses financial opportunities, children in the field harvesting at the kind direction of their mother, a mother sharing her beliefs about all the big things like God and society and equality with her children right there listening and knowing that this is normal-this is right.  How might we mothers be different, how might our children see new opportunities, how might everyone experience something valuable?

Suppose that the very wisdom and insight that the community around her is so desperately looking for is exactly what is welling up inside her.  What if she is simply waiting for her purpose to be inclusive of raising her children, but not at the exclusion of contributing to the world around her.  What if all the hurts, struggles, and upside down ways that society is battling becomes the very things her children are working away at inside of her?  What if she is the key to resolution and peace?  As we choose to be inclusive of the mothers among us may we also find deeper levels of sacrifice, connection, and truth that have been missing for some time from the communities we live among.  When we consider the mother may we also consider the next generation and all that we should be hopeful for.

Farming has become the perfect occupation for integrating community contribution into my work as mother.  I'm thankful that as I offer to take on the burden or work of another that they are willing to take on moments of care for my children.  This seems right.  I'm hopeful that I can help work through other ways that we may create new pathways of balance for mothers.

When I found out that my friend Susan might have thyroid cancer I landed on my knees in prayer.  This wouldn't be the first time I had prayed for my friend Susan and I know that she's done the same for me.  Once she was diagnosed my prayers changed to "How might I help her?" and "What do I have to give that is worthy enough"?  Like many of Susan's other friends I reached out and asked her to let me know if she needed anything.  But each and every time I spoke or wrote those words I felt an emptiness.  How do I let her know that I really, really mean it?  How can I let her know that I'm choosing to care in such a way that I wake up thinking about her and sometimes I want to scream and other times I'm simply left resting in my hope?  All for her?

One day Susan reached out and gave me a gift.  She told me exactly how I could help.  She told me exactly how I could be of the most help.  "Hey would you want to come over and cook with me one day?  My doctors are going to put me on a low-iodine diet and I want to be prepared."

Of course I said "yes" followed immediately by thinking, "what in the world is a low-iodine diet"?  

There was a long list of foods that are not allowed on the diet, but I was thrilled to see that the approved list was full of items available here on our farm (or could be picked up from other farmers at the market).  It reminded me that time and time again the recommended and ever changing diets for improved health like Whole 30, GAPS, Trim Healthy Mama all include real, farm fresh food.  An encouraging reminder that all of this hard work and giving away of gifts is worth every minute.


This was Susan's preferred, approved "food" list:

-Potatoes
-Sweet Potatoes
-Small Pumpkin
-Acorn Squash
-Lettuce/Greens
-Carrots
-Peppers
-Tomatoes
-Bell Peppers
-Eggplant
-Squash
-Zucchini
-Beef
-Chicken
-Pork
-Egg Whites

So on a Monday afternoon we gathered up the food and headed for Susan's along with other friends and co-farmers from Community Farmers Market.  

How bold and brave it was for Susan to reach out to us like that.  To trust us enough to welcome us into her personal space and intimate needs.  Because really-there are few things more intimate then the food we eat in order to prepare and heal our bodies.  This time together reminds me so much of the start of Community Farmers Market.  The ways that our lives have always folded in and out of one another's.  Susan was there when I gave birth to a baby girl at home and I was there when she gave birth to her ever growing iced cream business.  Loving, believing, hoping, caring for one another.  Celebrating with one another, struggling with one another.  

It's moments like this that the word community is really the thing.  For many of us it's not just a word that we use lightly, but something that we live out-day to day-alongside one another.  Not something to be bought or sold, but THE most valuable thing to be nurtured and shared.

As we gathered together to prep and cook we simply got started.  There were no recipes, no plans...just everyone using the cooking skill they knew with the food available right in front of them.  One person started caramelizing onions while another cut and diced squash and yet another prepared proteins for their place in each meal.  Quickly-entire meals were coming together and the freezer was being filled. 

In a way I think that all of us felt like we had poured our heart and soul into that food in ways we had never done before.  Our love and care for our good friend could be felt in the room and tasted in each dish.  I love the way that Susan shared her perspective from our time together on social media and I have asked her permission to share it with you,

"Y'all don't even know how dear these ladies are to me. A few weeks ago I sent out a distress signal, and these lovely ladies, along with a few reinforcements, were willing and able to answer the call. To prepare for radiation, I needed to start a special diet, the low-iodine diet {LID}. I basically had a tiny window of opportunity to prepare for this diet, and was completely overwhelmed by the thought of it, not to mention not feeling well enough to even know where to begin. So I invited a handful of farmers market friends to a party~ they were asked to bring their farm fresh foods, come to the kitchen, and cook for me all afternoon. Nice of me, wasn't it? 😉 Well these are a few of the hardworking ladies that were able to make it, and let me tell you, I am NOT going hungry thanks to them. They really made this restrictive LID feel like a luxury. I'll be sharing more pictures and stories of our afternoon in the kitchen at Susan's Low Iodine Par-Tay. I hope it pieces together what the Community Farmers Market means to me: community, family, friendship, food, nourishment, service, blessings. I hold these women {and so many others}, and the memory of this day, close to my heart. I will never forget their kindness."

The word community really does mean EVERYthing.

What if life is more than simply "staying safe"?

From the moment we are born our instincts for survival kick in-when allowed. Had we been left alone at birth we would have kicked and crawled and cried our way up our mama's abdomen-keeping ourselves warm and alive-until we found our mother's breast. I'm increasingly curious about what appears to be the rescue, escape, and distraction that we cling to so strongly in order to escape the instinct for survival.

All seriousness aside as it relates to becoming a civilized society, modern culture, and extending life expectancy-please offer me the opportunity to raise a few questions as it relates to the purpose of survival and overall satisfaction with life. Were we not a culture so often dissatisfied with how we spend our days (going to school, working full time, staying home full time, retired with the "honey do list") I wouldn't wonder a bit. But as Barry Schwartz puts it, "The majority of people on the planet to do work that is monotonous, meaningless and soul-deadening" there's something missing in this thing we call life.

What if we saw our daily work from the lens of very serious daily survival? Just as a baby crawls it's way to his mama's breast to find that deep satisfaction his first milk-what if we were willing to work that hard-every day-knowing that our effort provides the pathway to survival: water, food, shelter.

I felt most alive during the most challenging of life experiences. While I surrendered to the natural process of birth the people around me held space as I suffered-and eventually, over time-a baby was born. The same is true as I held space for my dad who was dying from cancer. I didn't save him, but I did hold space for him to have the most dignified and natural entrance to his enteral life possible. In both situations, no one was stepping in to rescue or distract-rather, the focus was on letting go as the most basic, natural process our bodies were created for took over. ​

Maybe it's not our own survival that we are most motivated by, but rather the place in which we end and someone else begins.  Suppose that it's in that space of connection that real life happens.  That's where the spark of life that fuels us in all the mundane and monotonous acts of life.  Could that be where our most significant work finds it's beginning?  The work that not only matters today, but tomorrow and throughout eternity.

What if we wake up every day acutely aware that how we spend our time, the ways we balance acquiring more with using what we have now, and serving those right here in front of us are of the most importance?  The realization that there are no pills to fix us, no rules to protect us.  What we really need is to wake up every morning living such authentic lives that we know deep down to our core that what we eat, how we treat one another, what we prioritize is what makes our lives and benefits those we love the most.

There's a reason why our grandma's went to their tried and true chicken soup recipe when someone was sick.  Not the Campbell's soup version, but the good old-fashioned chicken broth kind with slowly simmered chicken and vegetables.  Farm food heals us.  I'm reminded that healthy food points it's finger back towards farm food each and every time.  Not really certain why I'm surprised, but I suppose it's the same reason why any of us who have become separated from our local food supply over the last hundred years or so forget that real food = healthy food.

My friend Susan has been diagnosed with cancer.  It's a hefty dose of reality coming out of the death of my father who was taken from colon cancer a few months ago.  Cancer sucks-can I just say that, please?  Thankfully, my friend Susan is super awesome and ready to fight this thing.  She's also surrounded by a great medical team and an amazing network of friends.  

Susan recently sent me a list of recommended foods for her upcoming Low-Iodone diet to prepare ahead for treatment:
Beef, Pork, Chicken, Egg Whites (all unsalted-hard to find in the supermarket)
Eggplant, Peppers, Tomatoes, Potatoes, Winter Squash, Zucchini, Onion, Carrots, Lettuce 

I'm coming out of a 7 day GAPS diet reboot and I was surprised to see how closely her list resembled mine.  It reminds me every time that our bodies were designed to eat simple, healthy, locally grown foods.  When you look at all of the diets that are trendy right now, recommended by doctors, and hugely successful you recognize that fresh, healthy, locally grown foods are on the list.  Take a moment and see for yourself:

Whole 30
Paleo
GAPS
Trim Healthy Mama
​Low-Iodine

Maybe you've tried one of those diets in the past and maybe you are just briefly familiar with them.  Almost all of the recommended foods can be grown here in Kentucky.  Great news, right?  Unfortunately, the USDA just released a report that farmers in the US are only growing about half of the required fresh fruits and vegetables recommended.  Makes sense considering most of the crops grown in Kentucky are Corn, Wheat, and Soy.  Shop the center of any grocery store and you'll notice that all of the processed foods that are available contains some sort of combination of those ingredients.  The amount of diverse fruits and vegetables per capita grown in Kentucky is even lower than 50%.  It concerns me for the immediate health of those with weakened immune systems and other health issues.  It concerns me for the long term health of our children and grand children.

So what can we do?

First and foremost-you can start eating a healthier variety of fresh food from local farmers or even better-join a CSA.  Second, you can support networks of farmers like Community Farmers Market who are building a better food supply.  Third, you can ensure that those farmers continue to grow in numbers and that everyone in our community has better food access.

This is just the beginning of a series of posts that I'll be sharing on how farm food can heal the body and nurture communities.  

On Monday I'll join a few other women who will love on and nourish our good friend Susan.  In the kitchen we will cook up fresh farm food in order to prepare low-iodine foods that will prepare Susan for the treatment options she will pursue along with her medical team.  Check back in for photos, recipes and lots of love.