Sharing My Story: Part Two

As broken and flawed as my story may seem, its pieces fit together just as they were supposed to. In moments when I long to be on the wide and easy path, I pause on the narrow and notice the ways that the Lord is sustaining and providing. I see the beauty blooming around me, I trust the path ahead, and reflect on the steps that have lead me. I glean what’s at my feet and boldly live in the reality of who I am whose I am.

These past few months have been full of opportunities to celebrate celiac. Without many options to order when I go out to a coffeehouse or restaurant, I began to love my time in the kitchen. Creating, experimenting, and enjoying. Testing and tasting food I’ve missed for years. And the best part, it’s dang good… (hubby approved as well)! Our little apartment is constantly filled with the aroma of pumpkin bread, chocolate chip cookies, granola, muffins, and bread. Baking is one way I’ve learned how to celebrate my disease, bring joy back to my food, and laughter around the table.

The food i’ve been creating is not chewy, grainy, or fall-apart mush. It’s not the store-bought gluten-free bread that crumbles with a single slice. Or the watery, grainy muffins you pretend they taste good because it’s your only option. It’s also not full of preservatives, hidden toxins, loads of sugar, or processed alternatives. It’s made with real ingredients to create real food. Food to maintain and sustain a healthy and balanced lifestyle. Food that fuels and allows opportunities to flourish.

I’m inspired to share my story for the friends who also feel alone without options to eat. To those who walk into a coffeehouse, smell the scones, and try their best to avoid the buttery flaky pastry sitting by the register. To those too scared to commit to their own personal story. To those who feel limited by food. And to those who love food and want to celebrate it. To walk this journey together knowing we don’t live at the dead end of the street.