It was about a year ago, when I saw my picture with my new family and saw that I was more than just tired. I saw it in the eyes of the woman smiling back at me, in the dark circles below and the faded skin. I felt it in the way I moved about, that there was something missing inside, that no matter how much I rested or tried to care for myself, something was missing.
This past year was a journey into wholeness, into health, and not in the lose-ten-pounds-so-that-you'll-look-awesome-this-summer kind of way. Through it all, as I read and learned and experimented in the kitchen, I found peace. Peace with my own body, as my strength started to return. Peace with my world, as I could say something about the food industry in the way I spent my food budget. Peace with my roots, as I found myself eating the same foods that my mother and my grandmother fed me.
Peace, as I bowed my head to thank God for my food. And when I asked Him to bless it and to allow it to nourish our bodies, I was finally asking for this sincerely.
I believe in nourishment. I believe that nourishment is about feeding the soul as much as it is about feeding the body.
I believe that the foods that nourish our bodies are the foods that have have grown generation upon generation of peoples into strong healthy nations, not the food that our grocery stores are trying to sell us.
I believe that there is something mysterious about the way food sustains and feeds us. As much information as you can find about food (and there is a lot!), I think that we still eat by faith, much like the Israelites did in the desert, when they ate the bread of heaven and called it "manna," or "what is it?"
I know so very little. I have so much to learn. I hope that you will join me, teach me, nourish me as I walk down this path. I could use the company.