"Coffee for kids?"

Eat the Real Thing

On living differently, receiving love graciously, and why I keep laughing at the wrong moments

This morning a kind man walked up to my husband and me in a waiting room and asked, ever so sincerely, if we’d like some coffee for our kids. And I laughed. I couldn’t help it — I was certain he was teasing. I had this instant picture of our five littles, all under nine, currently sitting there playing so calmly, suddenly buzzing off the walls. Then I saw his face fall, and realized he’d meant it kindly and completely seriously. He gently offered the coffee to us instead, we thanked him and declined, and he left with a nod and a small smile — and I sat there a while, a little embarrassed, turning it over. Coffee. For children. To me that’s about the last thing I’d reach for — but the poor man had no way of knowing that, and my laugh certainly didn’t help.

Here’s the funny thing: it was the second time in a week I’d laughed at exactly the wrong moment. A few days earlier, friends had taken us to a beautiful lake in California — swimming, fishing, a picnic, one of those golden days you tuck away to keep. At one point a dear friend of ours, who’s walking through some really hard health struggles, was logging his food on his phone. Curious, I asked what he’d eaten that day, and he read straight down the list: a Milky Way, a bag of Fritos, coffee… and I laughed, absolutely sure he was joking. He wasn’t. And my heart squeezed, because he is genuinely trying — he just has never been shown what real food could do for him. That’s not a punchline. That’s a person I love, doing his best with what he knows.

I laugh at these moments, I think, because somewhere along the way our family drifted onto a very different road than most — and I forget, sometimes, just how different. But I never want to forget the other side of it, either: how far we’ve come, and how much grace we needed to get here.

Eight years ago, a sweet girl who babysat for us listened to me say we “like to eat healthy,” tilted her head, and said, “I know a lady who doesn’t buy sugar.” She was far too kind to say you’re not as healthy as you think you are — but oh, I heard it. And she was right. If I could set our grocery cart from back then beside the one I push now, the difference would astonish you. These days I don’t buy refined sugar or refined grains at all; we sweeten with raw honey, molasses, real maple syrup, and whole fruit — dates, figs, a splash of juice — in our smoothies, our herbal teas, our treats. But I got here with urgency to be well, and so I try hard never to be the reason someone else feels judged.

Which is really the heart of what I wanted to say today. Living this way is only beautiful if it comes wrapped in love — and most of the practice happens in how you receive the people who love you.

Right before that California trip, a family member sent us off with a jar of granola bars. My husband actually tried to wave off the gift, and I was surprised he thought I would! I took them gladly, because I could see plainly what they were: a small, real act of love from someone who knows we care about food and wanted to bless us. In the car, I read the ingredients out loud and let each kid choose for themselves. A couple wanted one, a couple didn’t, and one of my little ones handed hers back after a bite or two: “It’s too sweet.” (Their little palates really do change.) And a dear neighbor — my son’s Primary teacher, one of those women forever serving with her whole heart — once brought him a cupcake and sweetly asked first if it was okay. Of course it was. He was thrilled, and I only wish she knew how dearly we love her. Because here’s the truth: no cupcake on earth is worth wounding a good soul who showed up with kindness in her hands.

Better a granola bar received with love than the purest meal on earth served with a side of judgment.

And please don’t hear any of this as joyless — we absolutely still eat treats! We just look for the real-ingredient kind. My friend Vivi makes the most wonderful naturally gluten-free cupcakes (you can find her at supervitalfoods.com). We keep organic fruit leathers on hand, and treats sweetened with honey or maple or concentrated fruit juice. And the homemade fun is the best part: ice cream churned from real cream, maple syrup, and fresh fruit; popsicles from organic juice; ribbons of frozen maple syrup and chunks of chocolate and peanut butter swirled right in. (A whisper of real peppermint or cinnamon in a homemade chocolate is heavenly, too.) Real food was never meant to be a punishment. Done right, it’s a delight.

I know we’re all standing at different mile markers on this road. Some folks still trust that “low-fat” and “diet” labels are doing them favors, or reach for imitation butter and imitation cheese believing the fake is somehow better than the real. Gently, lovingly, this is the one thing I teach: eat the real thing. Real butter. Real, whole milk from healthy, pasture-raised cows. Real, organic, God-made food. And a wary eye on the “supposedly healthy” aisle — the yogurts and granola bars and energy drinks dressed up to look wholesome. Flip them over and read the label. Bright artificial colors, corn syrups, and mystery flavorings are usually a costume, not a nutrition label. (There are some eye-opening little videos out there spoofing exactly how cereal companies pull off that trick — worth a laugh and a lesson.)

I believe with my whole heart that the closer our food stays to the way God first made it, the more our bodies get to flourish the way He designed them to. But I believe just as strongly that the love around the table matters even more than what’s on it. So feed your family real, good food — and hold the people who don’t yet eat that way with the same tenderness someone once held for you.

“Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.” — Proverbs 15:17

Lots of love to you,

Steffanie


A caring note: I’m a wellness educator and a mom sharing our family’s way of eating and my own experience — not a doctor, and none of this is medical or nutritional advice for your family. Choices like raw or unpasteurized dairy carry real safety considerations (especially for young children, pregnant mamas, and anyone with a weakened immune system), so please look into safe sourcing and your state’s laws and do what’s right for your own household. If you ever flavor foods with essential oils, use only oils clearly labeled safe for culinary use, in tiny amounts, and keep them well away from little ones. Essential oils aren’t intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease; these statements haven’t been evaluated by the FDA. I’m an independent doTERRA Wellness Advocate. As always, talk with your own doctor about what’s best for you.