A Hard Truth

Honesty. Telling the truth. Speaking the truth, the whole truth, not buffering some of it to coddle or care for feelings, comes with a price. Sometimes the cost is small and insignificant, but it can also be big and a heavy burden to bear.

I’m the odd man out. I’m the outcast. I’m the weirdo. I am not mainstream. I am a trailblazer. I am on an island of my own. Choices got me here. My choices. Some of my choices were really bad choices. Some were really good, though.

I’m wrestling with some difficult emotions. I set out to share Raleigh’s journey through the GAPS diet to help other people find healing in their own life. I felt called to share. I believe God has given me this heavy burden for a reason. I see a world full of sick people and kids, my son used to be one of them, who need some hope. I’ve found that hope. I’ve discovered through this journey just how powerful food is as medicine. I believe to my core that one of the reasons I am on this earth is to share the truth about all I’ve seen and learned regarding this subject.

But sharing truth comes with a price, and my view of the world and how information should be shared is vastly different than how other’s view the world. Generations process information differently. Many people don’t want to hear the truth, or they want only part of the truth or to be coddled. Truth is dangerous.

One of the most difficult truths for me has been having to come to terms with the fact that many of Raleigh’s illnesses were my fault. Wait. Let me explain. Things don’t just happen to us. There are consequences to our actions in every way. What our mother eats when we’re in utero determines a great many aspects of how we grow and develop. What we eat once we’re born, as we’re growing, the environment in which we grow up; all of these things play a role much more than we realize, much more than we give credit and not many people are talking about how impactful these choices are.

When I was pregnant I didn’t know any of this. I was sick, but I didn’t realize I was sick. I was drinking tap water, had amalgam fillings in my mouth, was consuming processed and fast foods. I was doing the best I knew to do at that point and time in my life. I didn’t know anything about health, not really. Was that my fault? No, not really. I was a product of the society and family that raised me. My mother did the best she knew to do regarding nutrition, and she knew a decent amount, but growing up in America, in a society that does not teach about true health and wellness, I was simply a product that was destined for sickness and dependency on the pharmaceutical industry. We are all intended for this. Health is not taught in schools. We are just enough generations removed now from traditional cultures and knowing the proper ways of cooking that we are seeing our health deteriorate before our eyes.

This is a hard truth.

Coming to terms with this, with the fact that my choices before pregnancy, during pregnancy and after pregnancy gave me a very sick little boy, has been an intensely sobering thing. I have grieved. I have been angry. I have wished someone would have gotten in my face and told me some hard truths before I had even considered pregnancy. But that was not my path.

I was meant for a different path. I was meant for the one I’m on. I think many of us feel we’ve been given an impossible task. I felt that way. Sometimes I still feel that way. This journey to heal Raleigh has not been easy, not even for a minute, not any part. It is still difficult, though the difficulty has shifted, and the calling I feel to share our journey and all I’ve learned continues to find its shape.

I feel called to share hard truths. Let me tell you, for a people pleaser who doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, this is not an easy task. In fact it grieves me. It has grieved me of late. I have unintentionally hurt people by telling the truth. I have lost friends and even family over this. My heart hurts over it.

I look at Raleigh today and my heart bursts with thankfulness and joy because he is no longer the sick little boy who was plagued with debilitating eczema, edema, and asthma. I set out to share his journey with the hope of helping just one person. I’ve shared the truth. All of the truth. I haven’t sugar coated it because that would do a grave disservice to every one of you. But that doesn’t make the truth easy for everyone to hear. Some people aren’t ready for it or don’t want it. I can’t make anyone listen. I can only speak and pray that the people who need to hear this will find it.

This is a lonely place. I am misunderstood. I am told my words hurt, that words hurt, and I shouldn’t say hurtful words. We all have tremendous hurt. I’ve lived through hell. The pain and suffering I’ve experienced caring for a very sick child is difficult to describe. Often, it’s impossible to describe. I’ve spent sleepless nights crying out to God to change my situation, to heal my son, to take the pain from me. He answered my prayers. He didn’t leave me in my anguish alone. He gave me a voice. He led me down a path, and He told me to share my knowledge.

If I do not share what I know I’m not following the call He placed on my life. If I don’t share certain aspects in order to protect people who may be hurt by my words, by truth, I am living in disobedience to the call on my life.

This is a hard truth.

So I’m grieving. I’m grieving a different kind of loss now. I was grieving the lost years that sickness took from us. Sickness is a thief. It is time we won’t get back. I was grieving the fact that I had been lied to by my government and educators — people who have no idea what real health looks like or how to achieve it. Our actions have consequences, and sometimes we have to come to terms with hard truths; that we’ve been lied to, deceived and we’re living out consequences of choices we didn’t know any better about. Nothing about that is easy. It should make you mad. It should make you mad that you’ve been lied to. Don’t get mad at the truth tellers, though. Most of them would rather not step into those deep waters of waking people up. Because waking up to these hard truths is not easy. Most people would rather stay asleep. I’m coming to learn that many people don’t want to wake up. It’s much easier to remain asleep, and now I’m grieving that.

But there is Grace. There is truth. There is beauty in the hard truth. There is Hope. I never leave these hard truths here without also offering Hope. There IS Hope. There IS something you can do. You can change your health. You can learn. You can reverse disease. You can stop it in it’s tracks. God gave us food as medicine. He has put on this earth the very things that work to heal the body. What Hope! What beautiful Truth.

My heart is heavy. I never want to hurt anyone, especially someone I love. I only want to help. I only want to encourage and empower. If the truth tellers stop speaking; what happens?

2 thoughts on “A Hard Truth

  1. So thankful that you are here. I’ve read basically every single blog post in the last 24 hours, and I feel so much less alone. I’m a chronically ill 22 yr old mom to a new baby trying to get well for his sake. I have been stuck between stage 1 and 2 for 10 weeks, and every day I wake up and keep trying so that I can heal enough to have the strength to carry my ever-heavier baby and play with him, walk with him, live with him. God is healing me, I think. Some days I question if it’s working. But God seems to be using GAPS to save this broken and weary body. Thank you for being here too. He is using you.

    1. Thank you for taking the time to comment, Hannah. I’m so glad the blog has helped give you hope and not feel so alone. You’re not alone! If you feel the need for any support on the diet please don’t hesitate to reach out! Blessings.

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