a fork in the road

:) :) get it?

so after last year's "fork in the road"--from velveeta to organic whole milk, from butter in a tub to red butter lettuce, from typical american southern girl to weird, organic, health nut...yours truly is still surviving!

i wish i could say that we have completely changed our eating habits and will never go back. that i feel as young as the day i was born. that we never get sick anymore and that our eyes are brighter. that E.G. no longer spits up or throws tantrums. but i would be lying.

but here is what has changed about our lives.

1) we quit couponing.

wow. i never thought i would. this from the girl who competitively couponed. who prided herself in a 90% savings rate. who shopped the inner aisles of publix with an eagle's eye and the stealth of a mongoose. a girl who really knew how to pick an indiscriminating cashier, knew the policies of nearly every grocery store, and whose tiny, vulnerable, newborn daughter visited walgreens, cvs, and publix (several times) within her first few weeks of life.

granted, i still clip the occassional diaper coupon. i still spring for free shampoo deals and watch the publix ad for BOGO's on glad bags. but, for the most part, i avoid the inner aisles of mainstream supermarkets. most of the food within these aisles is processed and contains either ingredients i can't pronounce or is high in processed grains and sugars. so for us, for now, in general, those foods didn't make the cut.

2) we read labels.

i'm not talking about the nutrition facts section, the part that lists the calories and fat. now i look at the list of ingredients and am still shocked by what i see. can you believe i never did this before? until i was forced to eliminate dairy and soy from my diet, i had scarcely ever taken a glance at the ingredients list on a box of crackers. but when i found myself forced to check, i was shocked at what i saw. probably most of you already knew that publix donuts have thirty ingredients. what?! and they are from the bakery! why not flour, yeast, sugar, milk, cream, and eggs??? WHY? i've been programmed to ignore the ingredients section on labels. but now, for the first time, i'm starting to understand that a major part of my diet is...chemicals. not even food. it's disturbing enough to even make this ruffles potato chip and ranch dip loving cowgirl shake in her boots. and it's enough to make me move on to making more stuff at home from more whole ingredients.

3) we buy local and organic.

and to think that i always rolled my eyes others who did.

now we frequent local farmers-market-type places. we are mapping out plans for our soon-to-come backyard veggie garden. and, best of all, we participate in a local, organic crop share where we rake in 15-20 varieties of fruits and veggies each week that we sign up. it's like christmas morning in a brown, paper box. i still feel giddy on wednesday mornings when i hear the garage door open, announcing Kyle coming home from the chiropractor with the parcel of treasures.

and they are treasures. fresh, local fruits and vegetables taste ENTIRELY different than most of their supermarket counterparts. i'm obsessed.

4) we are focusing more on changing what we DO rather than changing what we DON'T.

for example, although it's true that it take 32 GLASSES of water to eliminate the toxins in a single can of coke (and diet coke is even worse), when i start to focus on avoiding coke, guess what happens? all i want is coke. and it's so discouraging.

so, instead, we put tasty mint leaves from last week's CSA share in our water. we keep a cup of ice-cold water within arm's reach when we are around the house and carry water bottles when we are out. we milk our ice and water dispenser on our fridge for all it's worth.

i find that when i meal plan around our CSA, i end up often serving two or three veggies for dinner every night. combine this with a meat next to a whole grain or root vegetable, and we're really full enough to not feel so deprived of our enriched, processed dinner roll smeared with congealed margarine.

5) we are still spending the same amount on groceries as we were before.

and i can't believe it. we found that when i stopped "stockpiling" scary canned goods and processed foods, we had the budget to afford that $10 glass bottle of coconut oil for cooking and the container of stevia. buying whole ingredients is just more simple. i don't need 500 varieties of crackers in my cabinet when i have 20 varieties of produce in the fridge.

so, for now, this is where we are at. i'm not as emotional now when i think about the absence of breyer's icecream in our freezer. if anything, i'm excited about the changes and feel hopeful.

as a disclaimer, i know this style of eating isn't for everyone. it's exactly that--a style issue. not a character one or a superior choice. most of the people i respect most aren't boarding the organic train with us. and i'm okay with that. for us, some major turns of events brought us to a fork in the road, and we were forced to choose...

...so with a clear conscience, and based on the information we've been given--let's hear it for a new path, and a plate full of bok choy and rainbow chard for dinner!

2011: a pile of rocks

i wish i could take all the happy memories of my life and carry them around, untouched, in a safe, little bubble. i could remove them from time to time to re-experience them, and i would feel again just how much i knew at those moments that God was really, really good, that life was precious, that there was hope. i find myself furiously snapping photos and trying to create experiences because i'm terrified of forgetting. i try to hang on for dear life to moments as they slip through my fingers. i'm sentimental to a fault, desperately wanting circumstances and people to stay the same, and grieving even minute changes to degrees i'm not proud of.

last night, at 1am, after we waved goodbye to friends from the pale light of our front door and snuggled in underneath our down comforter, i found myself reminiscing and trying to catch my breath. is 2011 really over? did all of it really happen?

first, a day back in the spring, when i was very pregnant and road-weary. Kyle and i got a call with an invitation to return to our alma mater to lead the campus ministry there--the very ministry God had used as one of the most enormous catalysts of our growing up, the one we had met one another in, whose people had surrounded us on our wedding day. an answer to a secret prayer i had begun to pray only in January, now handed to us on a sparkling, silver platter. march, 2011.

then, our first night here, in our very own home. we had de-glossed and primed the baseboards, and the heavy scent of chemicals lingered in the air. we had plans to stay the night at an old friend's house, but we found ourselves unable to tear ourselves away from...home. so impulsively, with eight-week-old Emaline in her tiny bassinet next to our bed, we snuggled in for the night in a house that was all our own. Kyle had chosen it quickly without me ever seeing it, it was a work in progress, and it had its share of imperfections, but it was beautiful, and it was ours! an answer to about fifty prayers that had seemed beyond our greatest hopes. june, 2011.

and the way it felt when we held our tiny, eight-pound Emaline, our very own baby, in our arms for the very first time, all wet and slimy and alive and very, very real, while tears ran down my face and i told her over and over again, "i love you, Emaline! i will always love you!" and he was suddenly a daddy. and i was a mommy. us! and we were never supposed to be. april, 2011.

i could go on. that day in Publix when i tickled Emaline's feet and she laughed for the very first time. the first staff meetings with our very own staff team, where i watched Kyle lead and my heart swelled with joy and delight at his skill and life and gifting. that night when after a series of arguments about how and where shelves and picture frames should go, and i shed not just a few tears, we stood back, breathless, and admired the work of our hands--Emaline's nursery, pale grey, sugar and spice, in all its glory.

2011 did not come without its share of pain. i spent 2011 watching my Mimi who i dearly love really get old. it seemed to happen suddenly all in one year. and it hit me for the first time that my own mother is getting older, too. we waved goodbye to a church in Gainesville full of friends who had rapidly become family in just two, short years. i never imagined that we would be severed so soon from people who had become so dear so fast. we returned to a town full of the greatest memories of our lives, with efforts to lower our expectations that all would be "the same" as it was in our college days. and nothing was the same. my heart has broken again and again. i am still fighting to release the days of everyday, neighborhood, heart friendships and a group of friends who are all best friends. i walked through valleys of long weeks of learning entirely new eating habits that drove me to my knees, sacrifices of sleepless nights that motherhood brought, the indescribable pain of labor that kept me reeling, gripping Kyle white-knuckled, crying out with abandon, hopeless apart from His help.

2011 ended in a slump of depression. but loving intervention swept in, ripping idols from my clenched hands, resulting in tears, tantrums, and finally, exhausted and desperate worship...of Him. He who is enough.

in Joshua 4, God told His people to erect a pile of rocks as a landmark to help them not to forget all He had done. may the year 2011 be as such to me! in years to come, i will remember 2011, and i will think of all God did, and how faithful He was. how faithful He is to us. i know i am forgetful. already, this morning upon waking, the first of 2012, i began to worry. "what if we don't have enough money?" "what if we never have another baby?" "what if i don't have what it takes to be a Nav wife?" "what if i burn the pot roast?" all those lingering questions. but look at 2011. He was good then, amidst the deepest pains and greatest joys i've felt so far. and the joy we felt when we held our girl for the first time on that warm, April day was nothing but a shadow of the Hope we are really waiting for. the best is yet to come!

happy 2012.

five happy-ish winter things

1. warm wintery food.

last night, i was privileged to sit in our kitchen with the man i love most and eat toasty and crispy french bread and soul-warming african peanut stew.

2. 'tis the season.

we put the garland and a sweet hand-crafted stocking on the mantle. we lit the fire. we toasted with warm cups of homemade apple cider and some sweet friends. we trimmed the chosen, enormous, christmas tree with a winding, thick, red velvet ribbon, twinkling lights, and dozens of globes and ornaments of meaning. it sparkles and beckons in a most satisfying way. emaline and i cannot take our eyes off of it. we joyfully celebrate Christmas time, the incarnation of Jesus whom we worship and love, and the gift of redemption.

3. Emaline is seven months old.

she will crawl at any second. she squeals, blows raspberries, clicks her tongue, and throws temper tantrums. she is mobile, active, animated, and willful. she has the prettiest eyes i have ever seen, laced with long, dark lashes. she is the chubby, pink, blonde-haired baby we always dreamed we would someday have. she is a miracle, and i thank God every day for the way she brightens our home and our lives. we cannot imagine life without her.

4. a strong, romantic husband to go on sleigh rides with.

well, maybe not sleigh rides... but car rides! he builds me warm fires, snuggles with me on the couch while we watch a dozen episodes in a row of "the wonder years" on netflix, and tiptoes with me into the nursery late at night to steal a hushed glance at our little bundle while we hold hands, marvelling astounded at what God has done to bind our hearts together and bless us with the undeserved gifts of one another and this little one.

5. a feeling of "heavy" space, dormancy, and perhaps dying.

i suppose this is at its very heart a "happy" winter thing, but today i probably only believe that because in my deepest soul, i know that winter is a promise of the approach of new life and springtime. while for now, leaves fall off the trees, and the grass turns brown. the sky is heavy, a dull, gray color. Em and i spend more time indoors.

and like the sky outdoors, my heart is gray and heavy. i am not sure why. i haven't swept our wood floors in weeks. it's hard to shake the feeling of lethargy that has crept into my limbs. i'm quicker to cry or feel alone. although i felt i waited all year for christmas, i'm suddenly wondering when it will be time to plant that springtime garden and watch the green peek cautiously through the surface of the ground. will it ever?

it's a part of winter i'm sure i have never felt quite comfortable with. a sense of space, deadness, anticipation. it is a bit heavy for an already heavy heart. i'm not sure what to do with it. most mornings, Em and i eat our hot oatmeal to the hum of christmas music in the background. i clean the house anyway and try to fold warm laundry. but today i poured over a psalm, sat by the fire, and thought. and thought. and thought.

today i don't even feel like i have a pulse. am i going to be okay? do i even care? i feel like this slump is a scary place to be. here i am, with all my deepest wishes and prayers answered, and all i can do is sit. and the days. they pass so, so, so fast between Em's naps and prepping meals and trying to remember to eat them. i don't think i feel a sense of purpose when i am just so, so very tired and busy and my fingers are cold to the bone. i'm begging for the fire to warm the house and for the warmth to return with its flames to my soul.

welcome, november!

today marks the beginning of November. we welcomed it this evening with celebration, tuning our ears to the gentle hum of Christmas songs crooned by Nat, Ella, and Frank. husband threw that first log on the fireplace, and we basked in its warmth with some dear friends. Emaline stayed up late and watched, mesmerized, along with the rest of us. warm, chocolaty treats, thick and creamy coffee, and a bit of sparkly riesling chimed in and added some magic to the evening. my hearth and heart are already in the throws of anticipating Christmas, and i'm thanking the Lord tonight for the blessings of my little family and our dear friends. now it's off to snuggling and watching some tv with my bestest!

a scorching east wind and a dying vine

i love food. i always have. even since babyhood (says mom), i have been a ferocious and voracious eater.

i wake up in the morning excited about breakfast, and i love to end my days snuggling up to Kyle with a heaping, delicious bowl of ice cream. third-trimester pregnancy and the first month of my newborn baby's life, complete with long nights of wakefulness, simply served as magnificent excuses for more fresco melts and smooth, vanilla milkshakes from the nearby steak and shake.

as i reflect on my long-since-passed high school days, when i was growing like a weed in my walk with God but in dire need of learning how to own my sin (still needing improvement in this one)--i felt stuck in a pit of insecurity, and food tied with bff Lauren Johnson as best friend in high school.

i rejoiced the day i learned from a precious Nav friend how to coupon and shop the deals at publix. that fell on the timeline during a rougher, darker season of my life, riddled with loneliness, new fears, and uncertainties, so large amounts of inexpensive food provided an unexpected means of temporary comfort.

food is a blessing. I Timothy 6:17 talks about God richly providing us with things for our enjoyment.

but am I still thankful for the giver when He removes the gift?

"You have been concerned about this vine, though you did not tend it or make it grow. It sprang up overnight and died overnight." Jonah 4:10

okay. i'm barely into this post, and i'm already being dramatic. i'm not starving. but my precious emaline has been diagnosed with a milk and soy protein intolerance. since she is exclusively breastfed, this means that we either start her on a special formula that is far out of our budget, or else i keep nursing. so i have to drastically alter my diet. no more dairy, nothing including any soy (there goes half my food intake. did you know soy products are literally in almost everything, chewing gum included?), no red meat, and easy on the nuts.

day 1 of new diet:
i can do this. we will find a way to make it work

day 2:
reality starts to kick in. i'm like ray charles going through withdrawals in the movie "ray." i'm grumpy because there are six flavors of BOGO breyers in my freezer, and i am not allowed to touch them.

day 3:
huge pity party. woe is me. nobody in the world has it this hard. nobody understands. kyle, how dare you put milk on your cereal. don't you see that some of us are suffering here?

day 4:
pity parties aren't much fun when breyer's icecream and twix bars are off limits.

day 5, 6, 7, 8:
depression

after this, in the grieving process, i think somewhere down the line you are supposed to reach the "acceptance" phase, so i think i did. i bought rice milk. i ordered a milk and soy protein free mommy cookbook and resigned myself to a lifetime of boring food. i diligently clipped what coups i could and chopped endless veggies. i cooked, and cooked, and cooked.

but yesterday i got a phone call, and all of a sudden the sun came out. birds started singing, and i realized i wasn't craving breyer's anymore. betsy didn't whine with me over the phone about "how hard that must be." her kind voice assured me that this would someday be something i would thank Him for as one of the greatest blessings of my life.

did you know that you can eat soy, dairy, and even gluten and sugar free without ordering diet cookbooks and reading diet food blogs? all you have to do is look around the world. our culture stands alone in its allegiance to a dairy-based diet. they really don't eat much string cheese or velveeta in the middle east. :)

i didn't mention this earlier, but somewhere around college or maybe soon after, my great enchantment with food eventually gave birth to a zealous fervor for cooking. i was smitten. the chopping of fresh herbs, vibrant and alive. the intoxication of sauteeing garlic and onions as you make fresh spaghetti sauce. the exhilarating freshness of tabouleh in summer and the glowing warmth of african stew in winter. and now this precious friend across the phone wire was inviting me to come over and learn from her to achieve the flavors of the middle east, latin america, greece, thailand...

thanking Him today for a better vine.


phở - a delicious, vietnamese noodle soup that you can whip up in your own kitchen without any dairy or gluten