SIMPLE RAW HEALTH

As a raw food vegan, health educator,

wannabe photographer, and writer, this is my online outlet.

Please join my family as we share with you our simple, yet healthy lifestyle!

This is where I will educate you about SIMPLE RAW HEALTH.

You really can nourish your body with God-given, natural foods -- don't just survive, but thrive!

Friday, March 27, 2009

Simple Path

My posting today is actually a re-post. I have another blog (Aspire to Lead a Quiet Life) and this is something I wrote back in December. With Spring knocking on the door and tulips poking through the dirt, we soon will be without Winter and her cold mornings. Although I am excited for greenery to fill my garden and summer sun to warm my face, I will miss the smells of simmering oatmeal on the wood stove...


Soft bubbles rise to the surface. They become more rapid in their ascent. Many more join until I can hear them knocking into the sides of the stainless tea kettle. The wonderful warmth of the wood stove heats the cold water into a frenzy of boiling bubbles. A favorite mug with a minty tea bag waits patiently in my hands. Soon I am sipping hot tea while stretched out legs offer chilly toes to wood stove warmth.


My son pads on out of his room. He wears his heavy morning slumber and rubs fists into eyes as if nudging them to accept morning's light. I hug his hot skinny boy self. My eyes close slowly, beckoning my internal camera shutter. My soul tries to capture this early morning moment and print it on my heart.



I mix rolled oats with their dust into a small pan of water. Thick, sweet, golden honey glops out of the jug and sinks to the bottom. Gently it rests under the oat mixture. I shake on dark brown pumpkin pie spices. The small pot, a lid, and its breakfast fare is set atop the wood stove. Soon I smell its warmth. And honey sweetness fills my nostrils. I add raisins, currants, and blueberries before taking it from the hot black surface. Scooped into a bowl with a wooden spoon and eaten with eager anticipation, my oatmeal concoction disappears.



Simple ways. Simple things. Simple gifts. Simple life.

When distractions of haste and a fast pace are set aside, it is easier for this Simple Country Girl to find God. 

His footsteps appear in the sand. I hear Him. I feel His hand in mine, tugging me along. I follow, trying to match my small steps into His large imprints. 

It is a simple path He walks.


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