My Wild Church

My grandma always tells this story of the time I went out and picked strawberries. I brought them in, mud and all, washed them, removed stems, and put them in the fridge. All by myself. I was 6 years old. It is still my favorite fruit.

Dressed from head to toe for the wild blackberry patch, I will never forget holding my breath, on the edge of the field, as my grandma sprayed me down with bug repellent for the hunt. After a long cool shower with Dial soap, I would run up to my grandma's kitchen where she would have those berries all rinsed and ready to go swimming in a bowl of fresh whipping cream. It was magic.

My grandma taught me most of what I know about the land and it's ways.
I love to garden because of her.


I meet God in the garden; my wild church full of good fruit and a few unruly weeds - all jumping out of their pews, praise hands, guts and glory - alleluia.

Every day is Sunday here, and the congregation is full of all types; old, young, diseased, healthy, weak, strong, stubborn, lazy, and just ripe. All shapes and sizes fall in, represent. Tending, weeding, guiding, harvesting - a gentle communion - God coming to earth to do His work for us and in us.




I am drawn to the land. I think it's because it feels like He's been here, is still here; extending His hand to me and my family in the gift of fruit. Every visit a surprise. Color so alive you can taste it. I think it's because I feel close to grandma here; extending her motherly wisdom, taking care of me, so I can take care of my family.

We bought a home this spring with a yard big enough for a garden, but I chose to plant on my grandparents' land in the country instead. I didn't want to miss the chance for me, for my kids, to spend time with grandma and grandpa doing something so rich and life-giving. Tabby dog runs around the yard, happy to see us. Grandpa revs up a tractor or lawn mower to the delight of two little boys. Grandma drives around in her John Deere gator passing on her secrets, handing me a hoe, stopping to dig up some carrots for me or take baby Bella for a spin.



And I think it's important. I think it's vital that we step away from the rush of the American lifestyle and slow down, breathe a little, grow something outside of ourselves. I feel like I am suffocating sometimes as the to-do list creeps up to my neck. Someone always needs something, there is always something to be done. But in the garden we are on God's time, and I like that.

This year we are growing green beans, peas, brussels sprouts, broccoli, cabbage, kohlrabi, cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, carrots, sweet corn, zucchini, spaghetti squash, and lettuces! We've also been able to harvest apples, peaches, blueberries, black raspberries and strawberries! Thank you, Lord, for the land, for grandma and grandpa, for the life you've given to the generations that gather around the garden for communion with You. Amen.



For more #tlfgarden15 adventures -- catch us on INSTAGRAM!!!

Gluten-Free Waffles + a Side of Perspective

You know what? Having allergies and cravings are one thing. Having allergies and cravings
whilst pregnant are quite another. Yesterday, when the doorbell rang and the nice mailman handed
me a flat, square box, my children shrieked, "PIIIIIIZZZZZZZA!?" In all of their existence, we
have NEVER had a pizza delivered to our house. Not one. But they were thinking what I've been
thinking for months: deep dish. Give it to me now. Or don't - because it will make me sick.


Two years of straightening out my diet and health issues. It's like my body is being ironed -
not my clothes - and let me tell you something, it is painful! Physically and emotionally.
My poor husband hears the bulk of it. When they go to canonize him someday, will someone please
add that to his testimony? I'm like his purgatory on earth. Food rants on repeat for this man.
Bet you're glad you didn't marry me. I told him when we were dating: "I am NOT just a pretty face."
I remind him of that now. Don't say I didn't warn ya, buddy!

It is just in these past couple of months though that I have realize how good I actually have it.
When I look at the foods I CANNOT eat compared to the list of foods that I CAN - I sigh a prayer of
thankfulness. Ok not really. I tend to twitch and get a little weepy - hi, my name is Brittany and
I am a recovering food addict.

I can't tell you how many e-mails I've received asking for ideas, diet solutions, favorite cookbooks,
places to start, etc. Most of which end with: "HOW MUCH DO YOU SPEND ON GROCERIES?!"

The golden question. A lot. That's my answer. But it's the only way to keep me and my family
healthy - so COST is a non-issue. We give up things in other areas to make this happen. We've
taken "let food be thy medicine" to a very serious level here. Hippocrates is the man.

And that's when I think of all the people, especially in third world countries, but even right here
in my own backyard. The ones who would laugh tears of joy to have my diet...
while I cry because I can't have just one freakin' Oreo.

Perspective. It's humbling.

Reminds me to be thankful for what has been given. It could be so much worse.
Little Miss Pampered Pallet here - recovering one day at a time.

____________________________________________________
Most of you know we make most things from scratch in our household. Boxed gluten-free mixes,
sauces, etc. still usually contain ANOTHER allergen that we have to avoid... soooooo you better
believe I do a couple back flips when I pump out a recipe from scratch that comes pretty darn
close to what I remember of the gluten-filled world!!!


VANILLA-ALMOND WAFFLES
(gluten-free + dairy-free + refined sugar free)
1 C. brown rice flour
1/2 C. all-purpose gluten-free flour (we use Bob's Red Mill)
1/4 C. tapioca flour
2 eggs
2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. sea salt
1 tbls. vanilla
2 tbls. pure maple syrup
1/4 C. sunflower oil
1 1/4 C. unsweetened almond milk (could use rice milk or water)

Whisk and pour into oiled/buttered waffle iron. Magic will occur. Yields: 6-8 waffles.

I'm always impressed when a gluten-free breakfast item manages to "hold together"
under great amounts of fresh fruit and pure maple syrup! These made me happy happy happy.

AND because I don't tolerate yeast at the moment, I have been able to make some
mighty tasty sandwiches out of these waffle babies too!

P.S. these do well from freezer to toaster to stomach. Just FYI. Midnight snack.
I'm so pregnant.

blog like you are dying

At the end of November I went to the bathroom and noticed that I was peeing blood.
How's that for an opening sentence? They teach you all about "hooks" as an English major -
and I've pretty much perfected the art. *serious/not serious face*

Kidney infection. Not a death sentence by any means, but a familiar flag to me. Not again.
I've been round and round with infections for the past four years.
Antibiotic after antibiotic, like it's no big deal. Like it's normal.

Last year, I wrote THIS post and it was ALL true. Four months of a pure diet brought me to a place of
SO MUCH healing. I did not get sick for over a year, some of my allergies even went away...

and then I got cocky with my diet.

Braving sugars, processed foods, dairy and even... *gasp* wheat on occasions. A slow suicide really.
The truth is, it didn't seem to have major effects on me. Thinking everything was as fine as picnics
on the lawn and fourth of July fireworks, I ran straight back into the arms of the American diet

only to be betrayed.

I seriously felt like a crazy person living in the United States of high fructose corn syrup.
EVERYONE drinks pop. EVERYONE eats ice-cream. EVERYONE EVERYONE EVERYONE.
I feared that I had imagined or over-thought some of our health/diet decisions...

It felt like the hippy in me was a little too happy for it's own good or something.

I wanted to blend in; eat crepes at the Farmer's Market like everyone else
and not have to pack food for my family wherever we went.

People pleaser right here. Herd lover. Crowd surfer.

CURRENT STATUS: undergoing a serious conversion


I saw a nutritionist who ran a lot of "not your typical" lab work.
He wiped my blood on a slide, turned on his microscope and asked me to come take a look.
First, HOW COOL?! Second, I cried.

He pointed out everything to me. Like the curator of a museum, he gave me a tour of my body via
my blood. I saw the bright, celestial-like white blood cells - all perfectly formed, in line, in check.
Hundreds of healthy red blood cells going about their daily route. Made sense why all my blood
work comes back "normal."

And then I saw the inflammation. The warning signs. The flags.
Danger - you are STILL consuming or being exposed to material that is breaking down your body.
Reaction. My blood was reacting.

We talked about auto-immune disorders that day. We talked about multiple-sclerosis.
I don't have a definite diagnosis at this point, but it doesn't matter. What I DO have
are the makings of a serious disorder that plagues my body EVEN NOW.

Various allergies, infertility, repeat infections, anxiety, panic attacks, and the rashes...

"My body is breaking," I sobbed one night in bed.
Ok, I cried every day at some point for a month straight.

It felt, still feels, like a kind of death. A death to a way of life that I am so used to
living. Giving up the American diet for good - and certain products that flare up my symptoms
seems so heavy at times. I drive past McDonald's (which is something I didn't even eat BEFORE
I had issues!) and find my bottom lip quivering because I can't get in that glorious drive-thru
like everyone else and order a number "give me a heart attack" with a diet Coke!

I think the most overused hashtag of 2013 was #firstworldproblems...
but I'm going to use it again right now. Because it's applicable. And I'm pathetic.

There are hundreds of thousands of people around the world who would feel so blessed to be eating
clean meats, vegetables, nuts, grains, fruits, distilled water...
and I'm crying because I can't go to Dairy Queen.

I have a love/hate relationship with perspective.

In the middle of all that was spinning out of control with my health in the past 6 weeks,
I was asked two questions that stopped me in my tracks.

One: "If you knew 100,000 people were going to read your blog tomorrow, what would you say?"

Two: "If you were going to die from all of this, what would you tell your audience?"

Things around here are going to look a little different as this year unfolds.
Please bear with me when days pass by and I cannot post. The diet/lifestyle change
requires more of my time in the kitchen than ever before - at least for now. I'm sure once
I get the hang of this I'll be chopping veggies in my sleep. Or get a private chef. Either or.
Uhhh and yea... the changes have fun with my body and create all kinds of nice side effects.
I'll leave you to your imagination.

Come 100,000 people or my death - I know what I would say.

Welcome to The Lily Field 2014.