Minimalism Is Still About Your Stuff


“I had everything I’d ever wanted. And yet, it still wasn’t enough. I still had this gaping whole in me, that I had been unable to fulfill by accumulating more and more stuff….”


I had every intention of finishing the book I’ve been reading this evening. James was at our friends’ house, the kids were in bed, it was a much anticipated quiet end to a rather chaotic and crabby day. However upon his arrival home, he settled in to watch a (what I hoped would be boring so I could keep reading) documentary whose title alone made me put down my book and pay attention.

“Minimalism: A Documentary about the Important Things”

It’s on Netflix, so go ahead and watch it (after you finish reading this of course.)

We live in a pretty small house with 3 young kids, and I do fantasize about throwing every random small misplaced and broken (yet desperately loved!) toy away multiple times a day. We’ve never accumulated a vast amount of possessions, due in part to our relatively small living circumstances, and yet I’ve always been fascinated with the ability to just live with less. So Longbourn, you’ll have to wait for another quiet night.

As the men shared stories about life before their conversion to minimalism, instead of being excited to purge my house of even more toys, clothes, and books ( Never the books) my heart grew heavy for these men. It genuinely surprised them when they realized their life of career, status and consumerism didn’t bring them the true happiness they craved. They had everything they wanted. And it wasn’t enough.

So naturally, they decided, the opposite must be true. Getting rid of all that extra stuff that left the promise of happiness unfulfilled will certainly fill that whole eating away at them inside. And it might. For a while.

It’s noble and I definitely understand and embrace the premise. But what these men failed to notice was that their identity still revolved around their stuff. “We are the minimalists.” Their whole message is about finding true happiness, not in having stuff, but now in NOT having stuff. It’s just the negative of the same image. Just as the accumulation of wealth leaves one feeling satisfied for a time, the dissolution of wealth and accumulated goods will indeed leave one feeling happy. For a time. But it won’t last.  The hunger will always return.

The documentary had at least one scientist (I can’t remember his exact title) who actually theorized that the biological need for more must stem from our ancestors who needed it to survive. We continue to crave more and more, but the accumulating of that “more” can never satisfy because for some reason we no longer need that biological urge for survival. I’m sure in his science-y lingo it made sense. But it’s just. not. true.

We do, as human beings, certainly have this inner craving. We all have this hole that we try to fill. You might deny it or not even see it, but deep down, underneath layers of things, clothing, gadgets, knowledge, exercise, food, sex, houses, money, experiences, it’s there. We feel…incomplete. So we better ourselves. We make sure we “self-care.” We surround ourselves with people who agree with us. We spend all our time helping other people. We fight for our political beliefs at the expense of friendships. We get rid of all of our stuff. Why? Because there’s something missing.

We are trying to fulfill a chasm in our soul caused by an ancient, severed relationship, and on our own, we are completely incapable of doing so. Without our trust in Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, our relationship with the God of heaven and earth, beginning and end, Alpha and Omega, will be broken. We will feel the dull ache for more. Contentment will eternally be just beyond reach. That longing you feel will only be fulfilled in Jesus. Not in accumulating things, nor in the abdication of that accumulation.

So by all means, remove the clutter from your lives. Get rid of things you don’t need. But also remember, “Sometimes all simplicity does is mask our pride and self-dependence. If we take a great deal of satisfaction in how little we need, in how much we reject abundance, simplicity becomes nothing more than an asceticism that, as theologian J. I. Packer puts it, is ‘too proud to enjoy the enjoyable.” (Hannah Anderson, Humble Roots)

You were meant to enjoy God, and life with Him. No matter how hard you try, nothing else will ever satisfy.

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. 11 I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. 12 He who is a hired hand and not a shepherd, who does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees, and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. 13 He flees because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. 14 I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, 15 just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep.  (John 10:10-15, ESV)



Looking Back before Looking Forward

As many are forcing pen to paper today to name and claim their goals for 2017, I want to take a minute to reflect on 2016. It’s been a big year for the Pruch family to say the least. As I scroll through my social scrapbook (AKA Instagram), I am reminded of many instances of God’s clear provision, answer, direction and movement as we sought him.

The seasons our family experienced in 2016 seemed to coincide with the actual ones, changing as the weather outside reminded us that for better or worse, no season lasts forever. Winter to spring, summer to fall in perpetual rotation constantly pointing us to the One greater than us, keeping the world and our individual lives in motion. Here we are in winter yet again, fittingly sad but looking toward spring with expectant hearts.

Winter: It was in January of 2016 that we stood before our church family and announced that James would not be applying for the senior pastor position. We didn’t know what was next for us (we didn’t even have an inkling) but we sensed the Lord directing in this way. We asked for prayer that as we moved forward God would lead and guide our steps. Little did we know the year would end with us knowing exactly where we were going, the Lord faithfully showing up meeting after meeting to provide the means to supply this calling.

Spring: We offered to take in a newborn girl while her parents went through some rough stuff.  Nothing came of it, so we did what we could to make our home an official place of rest and security for kids in circumstances beyond their control. To date we still have not received a call for a foster placement, which goes to show that just by becoming a certified foster parent, your home will not turn into a boarding house overrun by craziness in one night.

Summer: We began to sense that it was time for us to start earnestly start seeking the Lord as to where we were to go next as a family. We prayed (and prayed…and prayed) and took steps to investigate a few options, but ultimately truly felt peace about becoming full-time missionaries to colleges students with Cru.

Fall: we announced our decision to leave Grace Chapel and began the work of seeking out partners to join our ministry team. I had no idea what a blessing this process would be. Refining, redeeming, humbling, and full of sweet evidences of grace that we would not otherwise be privy to witness.

Winter again: It’s our last here and as we boxed up our Christmas decorations last night, not knowing where we will be when we open them again next year, I can only describe my emotions as hopefully sad. Full of hope as we look forward to the new year and all that God will show us about his character, mercy, grace and provision. But desperately sad at what we are packing up, preparing to leave behind. Not only did we just celebrate our last Christmas here, but we are entering a season of lasts that will come to a close long before I am ready. Just as winter must come and go before the spring can arrive, all of our “lasts” must be experienced before we can move on and enjoy all of the “firsts” ahead of us. It’s a mourning of sorts, and we hope to grieve our losses here well. We could sit inside the winter of our sadness and cry until spring comes (both literally and figuratively here in New York), or we can bundle up and face the cold, making the most of our last days.

Amidst these refining spiritual seasons, we’ve made fun memories, including taking the kids to New York City not once, but twice. Titus weaned, crawled, walked, and is now well on his way to linebacker training as we learn to feed him food he can tolerate and digest. Hope has gone from diaper clad toddler to blossoming little preschooler, able to articulate her thoughts and work through her fierce emotions with a little more control. Bailey began the year unable to read, and now reads at (the very least) a 3rd grade reading level and amazed us all with her confidence at her first dance recital. We’ve had family visit, had a blast on our official “stay-cation,” visited family in Nebraska, spent countless hours in our backyard, made new friends in our Classical Conversations homeschool community, and many more.

We’re thankful for 2016 and look forward with hopeful expectation to 2017.

So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. Return, O LORD! How long? Have pity on your servants! Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days. (Psalm 90:12-14 ESV)

Gospel-Centered Parenting Takes Work

I recently had the honor of playing violin with some ladies for special music at church. Two are fabulous musicians and music teachers and the other three are their respective daughters. While we were practicing, the two moms/teachers lamented the fact that neither has abundant time for individual practice anymore.

[Side note: I find it a little alarming to think that my dream of one day having oodles of time to invest however I choose when I am no longer changing countless diapers, fixing innumerable peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and fetching cup after cup of ice water, is merely an illusion! But I digress.]

Both of these women are accomplished musicians. Over the course of their lives they’ve spent untold hours investing in their craft and would appear to be beyond the need for constant personal practice. Particularly as young adults in college, they had the time they needed to practice, learn, grow and be challenged. They had teachers who spent a great deal of time and effort helping them grow and mature as musicians. Now they spend their days teaching children to play and love music!

The determination and hard work of these musicians give Christian parents tremendous insight when it comes to discipling our children. Here are three things we can learn from them.

1. If you want to train your children to know and love Jesus, you must first know and love Jesus!

It would be very difficult for a music teacher to instill in her students a love for music and the ability to play if she didn’t know how to play the instrument she was instructing!

How is it that we best know and love Jesus?

We have to read. God saw fitting to leave us a book that tells us the story of our redemption in Jesus from beginning to end. We can’t and won’t know him apart from his Word. We are so bombarded with information and entertainment in our culture it makes sitting down and focusing on the written word nearly impossible but it is an absolute necessity. We cannot get around the fact that to know God we have to read his word. We can’t love what we don’t know. 

2. If you want children to grow into adults who love and serve Jesus, you must invest countless hours in training them up to do so now.

No musician (or athlete for that matter, but I am much more the first than the second so that’s the illustration we’ll stick with here) has become what they are are without instruction, sacrifice, practice, diligence, and discipline. Why do we expect anything less for our responsibility to train our children in the way they should go? Why do we think we can invest all our (and their) time, effort and energy into other things (sports, music, gymnastics, dance, etc…busy-ness knows no bias) and ignore our children’s spiritual upbringing, but then expect them to flourish as followers of Jesus, especially when released into the world, (probably in college) when they have their first real taste of ‘freedom’?

3. It takes a normal daily rhythm of constant conversation.

I recently read an article that noted very few children and youth have regular ongoing conversations about faith, Jesus, and the Gospel with their parents. It’s definitely not a surprise then, that children often aren’t enraptured by the grace of Jesus and appear to leave the church as soon as they are given the freedom to do so.

Just as a musician doesn’t learn a new piece in one sitting, our children don’t learn about God’s love in one reading of His word, or one conversation with mom and dad, youth pastor or Sunday School teacher. There has to be daily (sometimes multiple times a day!) practice, putting other things aside to make room for the most important thing.

And finally, pray.

The more your kids hear you pray, the more they will want to talk to God for themselves.

Pray for their little hearts! You can do everything right, but only the Holy Spirit can transform hearts, so put your trust in Him and not in any form of good parenting. But don’t neglect your role in their upbringing as a Christian parent.

And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates. (Deuteronomy 6:6-9 ESV)

As you look to the new year, start the year with a fresh heart. Ask Jesus for help this year in discipling your children to know and love Him. For long after this year’s Christmas gifts are broken in a corner collecting dust, knowing Jesus is the greatest gift you can ever give them.


Submission Isn’t a Dirty Word

Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife even as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit in everything to their husbands. (Ephesians 5:22-24 ESV)



There are no shortage of articles, sermons and even books written about this topic, and yet, it still seems to leave a bad taste in women’s mouths. The temptation is to assume you know what it means and then you either have to decide if you’ll accept your own interpretation, or dismiss it as a “cultural topic” and irrelevant today. (Since women back in Paul’s day were certainly not as strong and independent as we are today!) *sarcasm intended there*

Don’t neglect to read on in the passage…

Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, (Ephesians 5:25 ESV)

Wife, what if submission to one’s husband doesn’t mean you can’t have a strong personality and opinions? Maybe submission doesn’t mean the man makes all the decisions.  What if spiritual leadership, in it’s truest form, means your husband sacrifices his desires, wants, and comfort on behalf of his family in order to lead them into the holiness that Christ desires from us?  Who could balk at that?

When James is leading me and our family well, he is continually sacrificing his comfort on my behalf. Who wouldn’t want to follow a leader who doesn’t demand respect and authority but, in humility, lays down his life for others? Sometimes leading me spiritually means James takes the kids and tells me to get out and read my Bible and pray for longer than 5 minutes at a time. Sometimes that means that when it’s been a hard day and the kids aren’t listening and whining, he takes over and lets me recover alone. (Hello, introvert here…) Being a spiritual leader doesn’t mean he tells me what to read or how to pray. But he provides the space and the ability for me to do so when life is overwhelming and too chaotic for me to carve out that space on my own. He makes sure it happens.

A few months ago, we announced a BIG change in our family. We are leaving our church and everything we’ve known for the past 3+ years in order to become full-time staff missionaries with Cru. What no one saw was the countless conversations James and I had leading up to that public announcement. James didn’t make that decision on his own and drag us along with him. We didn’t even make this decision together in one neat little conversation. In fact, when we started praying about what was next for our family, I had more opinions than he did. We talked.  Sometimes we argued. We prayed. We prayed more. It was hard. But never once did James demand we do what he says we should just because he’s the husband and is supposed to be the leader. Being a spiritual leader does NOT mean you make the big/hard/risky decisions for your family on your own. In our case, it meant James needed to listen to me and my heart a little more and take a somewhat risky step of faith.

When done well, a husband leading and a wife submitting is a very beautiful and essential representation of the Gospel. Jesus leading his people and conquering their enemies actually looked NOTHING like what his followers thought it would look like. They wanted a ruler to come and destroy their political enemies. Jesus instead came quietly and humbly and then died on behalf of his people, conquering our greatest enemy itself—sin!  When we, as his people, submit to his authority in our life, we are not submitting to a harsh, demanding authoritarian ruler. We are submitting to the most selfless, patient and loving King we could ever know. No one who could truly see that would demand it be otherwise.

Unfortunately we don’t always get it right. We allow our sinful natures to tell us God must be wrong, instead of dealing with the reality that maybe our idea of what it means to lead and submit are probably incorrect.

A few important things to note here, particularly for single men and women:

-Male headship and female submission is only required within the context of the marital union (or family context with a believing father and daughter). A single woman is not under the authority of the single man sitting next to her at church.

-A single woman should be careful to not demand the man she is interested in or is dating be the perfect leader from the get-go. He deserves patience and grace as he earnestly seeks the Lord and learns to lead. Be careful in dismissing a man who may be a young believer simply because he doesn’t know how to lead well.  Just knowing how to lead a Bible study of 6 guys in no way prepares him to lead a wife and family in daily pursuit of the Lord. It’s messy, hard and takes time to cultivate that kind of humble heart.

-In the same respect, a single man should not discount a woman as a potential marriage partner simply because she has a “strong personality” and he doesn’t think she’ll know how to “submit” well. If a woman says “I won’t submit to a man!” don’t dismiss her as an unbelieving woman. It’s likely she has no idea what true biblical leadership and submission really means. 

If your heart bristles when you read Ephesians 5, stop for a minute and pray. Ask the Holy Spirit to work in you to see truth clearly.  In marriage, we are seeing and displaying a mere shadow, a foretaste of the coming King and Christ’s reign among the Church. Let’s prepare the way for him to return well! Let our marriages be grace filled testaments to our submission to the Ultimate Authority, the true King, who entered into our brokenness amidst sheep and camel dung as an utterly helpless babe. He led the way to a restored relationship with God all the way to the cross. He gave up his comfort, his right to riches, his perfect communion with his Father on our behalf. 

If a man desires to model that for me and our family, there’s no one on earth that could convince me not to go with him.


The Burden of Bearing the Son

Pacing the floor of our bedroom this afternoon, holding my 15 month old son tight (biceps burning!), feeling his chest rise and fall calmly for the first time all afternoon, I began to ponder how Mary felt all those long years ago.

Did teeth emerging through uncut gums cause Jesus to wake in the middle of the night screaming? Did Mary too, spend an entire afternoon in a dark room holding her son, walking back and forth because he wouldn’t sleep or eat or stop crying unless he was in her arms?

Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery. (Hebrews 2:14-15 ESV)

The humanity of Jesus always gets to me at Christmas. Especially when we have a baby in the house. Being God didn’t make him any less human, subject to all the ills, pains and total dependency of normal childhood. Mary, as his mother, would have felt every feeling a mother feels about her son. She wiped his chin when food dribbled down unhindered. She kissed his tears and felt frustration build within her heart, unable to decipher his cries.  And yet, bearing the angel’s words deep in her soul, she must have felt a particularly unique and powerful burden, knowing that this little boy wasn’t just her son.

Did she pore over the scriptures (where she had access to them) searching for answers to her questions about her Messiah son?

What must she have felt as she read the ancient prophecies about her own son?

Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah 53:4-6 ESV)

I imagine Mary, watching her sleeping baby boy, recalling this passage in her mind. Emotions rolling through her heart as his little body rested peacefully, wondering desperately if she could somehow protect God himself from harm. I sometimes (mistakenly) think she was distanced from her mothering of Jesus because she knew indeed it was the son of God and not just any ordinary baby she carried and raised. I think she had to have had some divine instinct in mothering her firstborn son. She would have to be a perfect mother, as her son was indeed the perfect Son.

But Mary wasn’t divine. Mary was a mother. And she bore a Son.

And that Son bore the iniquity of us all.

An Open Letter from the Pastor’s Wife

To the church family we’ve been graciously given,

The “Pastor’s Wife” can be a withering position. Expectations can run amuck and disappointment can swim deep surrounding who stands next to the pastor every Sunday morning. Whispers and rumors can destroy her spirit, and gossip can eat her alive.

But you have been kind. So very kind. Your expectations, if there, remained unvoiced. Instead of disappointment in your eyes, I’ve found warmth. You’ve given my family space to figure out who we are. We didn’t know what it would be like, and you welcomed us into the fold in a way I never saw coming.

You showed up on moving day before we really knew a soul and stayed late to set up beds and put away silverware. You showered us with giftcards and meals as we set up a new home so very far from everything we’ve known. You became grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins to my kids without me ever asking. You offered to babysit for our anniversary so we could go out before we knew anyone to ask. You regularly welcomed us at your tables and told stories that both filled us with joy and despair.  Your holidays and celebrations were now ours to share. You’ve been our family at birthday parties and because of you, my kids have never known a day of loneliness in their lives. You brought meals when our son was born.  You’ve prayed over him and checked in on him often as we’ve dealt with frustrating digestive issues.

On Sunday mornings while my husband is unavailable, you’ve included my daughter who was too young for your Sunday School class with joy and delight and made her feel confident and courageous. You’ve taken my children to the bathroom, to get a drink, to the nursery and just on a walk when I didn’t have a 3rd (or 4th) hand. You’ve laughed as my children tore past you running wild with their friends. You’ve sat in the nursery with them crying, even when you weren’t scheduled to be there so I could listen to my husband preach. My children have come home smelling like you, after spending the entire service quietly on your lap because I was home with another sick child and they wouldn’t go in the nursery.

You’ve smiled. You’ve hugged. You’ve listened. You’ve prayed. You’ve cared, and you’ve loved us deeply.

I’ve walked a road here I wasn’t always sure how to navigate; in marriage, ministry, and motherhood. Instead of watching and wondering how well I’d do it on my own, you jumped in and walked alongside and cheered me on. Some of you even held me up when I wasn’t sure I could keep it together. You didn’t demand my love and respect or even my presence, but through your unending and consistent love and care I’ve tasted and seen a shadow of the grace of God. Without asking anything in return, you have been a beautiful representation of the kindness of Jesus to me and it is inexplicably bittersweet to be spending our last Christmas this side of Heaven in your fellowship.

Now as we venture into a new wilderness of ministry, you’ve not only granted your permission, but you’ve shouted your affirmation. You’ve rejoiced at God’s work in our lives and proclaimed his goodness in calling us away.  Your desire to partner with us from here on out is indescribably humbling. I write with tears of gratitude and heartache streaming.

I now understand more deeply than I ever would otherwise, the emotion behind Paul’s words to the Philippians when he says:

I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you all making my prayer with joy, because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now.  And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. It is right for me to feel this way about you all, because I hold you in my heart, for you are all partakers with me of grace, both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel.  For God is my witness, how I yearn for you all with the affection of Christ Jesus. And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God.

Amen and amen.


Titus and Food, a war for the ages

Several months ago I shared about the battle against food our little dude has fought, and how very specifically the Lord has provided for us throughout this struggle.

I have felt so helpless in knowing what and how to feed our son that we resorted to feeding him just a few foods and praying we’d get to a good baseline and finally understand what was causing his problems. We weren’t getting there. I started to research a specific healing diet (GAPS), but kept running into foods recommended that we were pretty sure caused some serious damage to our son’s intestines. As only the Lord can ordain, I stumbled on an article recommending working with a nutritionist who can not only provide insightful testing, but also individually guide and direct the healing process. I emailed the nutritionist to see if she ever worked with parents of young children. Her response was quick and so very kind. We set up a 15 minute phone conversation to get started and she and her assistant have been such a pleasure to work with thus far!!

She ran some blood and stool tests and the results were both expected and surprising. His body doesn’t seem to be giving off enough enzymes to digest his food properly, there might not be enough acid in his stomach to break the food down initially, the immunity of the lining of his intestines was pretty compromised, and we were still dealing with blood in his stool.  They even found white blood cells in his stool which definitely indicates his body is waging war on the food he’s been consuming and his intestines are bearing the brunt of the collateral damage.

The blood testing gave us an idea of which foods his body was definitely recognizing as invaders, and the results of this test were actually pretty shocking. His biggest reactors were melons, sunflower, aramanth, soy, corn and several vegetables. You know what he didn’t react to?? Dairy!  That doesn’t mean for sure he won’t react to dairy, but this also gave us a good idea of foods he should be ok eating, especially on a rotational basis, so we will be able to open up his diet to include more proteins and fats which he has seriously been lacking!


Our list of “NO!” foods for now.

Armed with my newfound knowledge, I took off for the “expensive” grocery store and wandered the aisles searching for foods we could stock our fridge with that would be tolerable, nourishing and healing for our little man.  I kept thinking about how 3 1/2 years ago I felt so lost after Hope’s dr. told me to eliminate just dairy and soy from my diet. I had no idea what I was going to eat! I chuckle now because we have come so far in our understanding of food and it’s place in our lives and I am so thankful for the Lord walking with us through such a unique trial. I found what we needed, only half balked in sticker shock upon checkout (unfortunately eating whole quality food tends to cost a pretty penny) and made my way home in time to get a cage free chicken in the oven before we had a support appointment. Before bed that night James made Ghee and I shredded the roasted chicken and used the bones to make bone broth. My friends, we have officially arrived as whole-food hippies.


Ghee, aka “liquid gold”


Homemade Bone Broth and Ghee. 

We’re on day 3 of no more formula and I think Titus might be settling into an ok rhythm without it. (Maybe. He’s not thrilled with something lately but it might be the molars pushing their way uninvited to the party of this dude’s life.) This was my biggest fear. We were relying so heavily on formula for his nutrients and calories because I wasn’t sure what else to feed him, but it turns out he either developed an intolerance to corn and sunflower because of the formula, or it wasn’t the greatest for him in the first place. I’m so glad we went through with the testing because while it was expensive, to find out the very food we were feeding him was causing him damage is invaluable information! So now we’re basically loading everything he eats with olive oil or ghee to get him enough calories and fat and taking one day at a time. We still have to work through adding in food slowly, but knowing there are more than 4-5 foods he should be able to eat safely is so incredibly freeing to me. The hardest part is keeping him from grabbing his sister’s peanut butter and jelly sandwich and making a mad dash for the door while stuffing his newfound treasure in his mouth. (Not that this has happened..twice..or anything. *sigh*)

My hope in sharing this today is that some mom in the lonely throes of identifying offending foods will know she is not alone! Your individual process will be different because every one of us is unique and no healing process will be identical, but there are those of us who understand what it’s like to avoid restaurants, parties, play dates and events because food isn’t safe and it’s easier to just stay home than watch your little one’s face fall in despair as they realize they can’t eat what everyone else is eating and they definitely don’t understand why.

It is possible to heal, but it takes a lot of work and planning, and I am so incredibly thankful for my little tribe who works together for the good of our little man.  (Most of the time..)


Bailey helping me plan out the next day’s meals and snacks for Titus. His big sisters care deeply for him and I absolutely love it.


And he humbled you and let you hunger and fed you with manna, which you did not know, nor did your fathers know, that he might make you know that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD. (Deuteronomy 8:3 ESV)