Can Consuming Organic Food Grass Fed Beef and Cultured Milk Transform Your Life From Sickness and Disease Jordan Rubin Interview part 2
Can Consuming Organic Food Grass Fed Beef and Cultured Milk Transform Your Life From Sickness and Disease Jordan Rubin Interview part 2
I don’t know why, but I believed him. Hope swelled in my heart. I smiled for the first time in nearly two years and told my mother that I was going to get well.
You see, once my illness set in and I knew the severity, I realized that this wasn’t just about me. I suddenly knew how important good health was and that there must be others suffering as I was. I also knew that God doesn’t waste our pain. We only go through and overcome painful circumstances in life so we can benefit others who are going through similar experiences. In fact, a year into my illness, there was a moment that would change my life forever when I asked my mother to take a picture of me at the depth of my suffering.
“Jordan, I don’t want to take your picture,” my mom said. “It breaks my heart just to look at you.”
She had a point. I was standing in front of my parents’ closet, wearing just boxer shorts, and you could practically count every rib in my emaciated body. I had lost nearly half of my body weight and stood at just 111 pounds. I looked like one of those Holocaust survivors, not much more than skin and bones.
“Mom, you need to take my picture.” “Jordan, I don’t want to take your picture. Why do you insist?” “Because the world is not going to believe what God is about to do in my life.”
Kenny and Jason couldn’t believe how much better I looked when I picked them up at the airport. I had arrived in San Diego weighing an unhealthy 116 pounds, but I had added nearly thirty pounds during my forty-day health experience.
“You guys ready for dinner?” I asked. “The menu is pretty simple. I hope you don’t mind.” “Since when did you learn how to cook?” Jason teased. “I wouldn’t really call it cooking, but it’s healthy and doesn’t taste too bad either,” I promised. I pulled into the bayside parking lot and found an unobtrusive spot. I had purchased the dilapidated motor home in San Diego after spending a few weeks with Bud Keith and his family to get my bearings. He urged me to spend as much time as possible near the beach, breathing in ocean air by the lungful and catching the sun’s rays to give my body a vitamin D boost.
Bud also talked nonstop about the importance of eating whole and natural foods as consumed by our biblical ancestors. “I know why none of the other doctors have helped you,” he said. “You need to follow a health plan that is based on the Bible, one that’s been proven through history and confirmed by science.”
Now, I was a young man of deep faith, but during those dark times, I was miserable. Sure, I read the Bible every day, but I never thought of God’s Word as anything more than a spiritual book. While the Bible gave me insight into the Creator of the universe and taught me how to act and live, I couldn’t recall reading anything about health or nutrition in the Old or New Testament.
But as Bud expounded upon his philosophy, his thinking could be boiled down to two powerful points:
Bud gave me an eating plan that outlined what foods he wanted me to eat, and he also gave me plenty of “homework,” meaning he handed me several books to read. One of them was called The Milk Book by William Campbell Douglass, M.D., which opened my eyes to the virtues of consuming grass-fed cultured dairy products. Bud thought drinking raw unpasteurized milk and cultured dairy such as kefir from grass-fed cows would be greatly beneficial to my digestive tract and help my ailing immune system. He also directed me to eat grass-fed beef, wild-caught fish, as well as drink raw juices made from organic fruits and vegetables.
That made for a limited menu, but for a twenty-year-old nomad with no access to a kitchen, that would have to work.
“Tonight we’re having grass-fed beef burgers,” I announced to Kenny and Jason.
My well-used RV, which had more than 80,000 miles on the odometer with sleeping accommodations for two above the cab and two bunk beds at the rear, didn’t have many of the creature comforts that you’d find in more modern motor homes. I had a two-burner propane stove and a combo toilet/ shower— but no refrigerator. To keep my meat and dairy products properly refrigerated, I filled a cooler with new ice daily and made sure nothing stayed longer than two days.
Can Consuming Organic Food Grass Fed Beef and Cultured Milk Transform Your Life From Sickness and Disease Jordan Rubin Interview part 1
Can Consuming Organic Food Grass Fed Beef and Cultured Milk Transform Your Life From Sickness and Disease Jordan Rubin Interview part 1
I personally invite you to experience a rare interview with Jordan Rubin, a man who dramatically transformed his life from near death to become the vibrant man he is today. Jordon accomplished this seemingly impossible task with a total diet transformation to Organic Foods, Grass Fed Beef and Cultured Milk products made from Grass Fed Cows free of Antibiotics, Bovine Growth Hormone and Genetically Modified Grains and Corn. These cows instead were pasture raised naturally, and the amazing nutritional differences as a result literally saved Jordan’s life. Jordan was on a passionate mission to share his revolutionary breakthroughs with the World after that. As a result, Jordan wrote several books on his life changing revelations and founded Beyond Organic.
Today I have the honor to share Jordan’s amazing story via the first chapter of Jordan’s newest book: “From Tragedy to Destiny”
I maneuvered the ’68 Dodge bunkhouse motor home past the manicured lawns and bay windows of the Pacific Beach homes atop Crown Point, a finger of land that overlooked San Diego’s Mission Bay, an aquatic recreational playground. The year was 1996, and I was a few months away from my twenty-first birthday.
It was getting late in the day, and I was looking for a place to encamp for the evening and cook dinner. Parking around Mission Bay could be tricky because local authorities didn’t want transients—like myself— parking overnight in beach lots or bothering residents in nearby homes. But as long as you were unobtrusive and moved along first thing in the morning, you could usually get away with parking overnight near one of the bay’s many inlets.
“How does this place look?” I asked my two passengers, Kenny Duke and Jason Dewberry. Kenny had been my close friend while growing up in Palm Beach Gardens, Florida, and Jason was my college roommate at Florida State University in Tallahassee. Unfortunately, I had to medically withdraw from school during my sophomore year when I became seriously ill with a variety of life-threatening ailments. Now I was living in San Diego, trying to get well.
Kenny shrugged his shoulders. “Fine with me,” he said. Kenny and Jason had flown in from the East
Coast to check up on how I was doing. They were amazed at my transformation when I picked them up at the airport. I had put on a good thirty pounds since they last saw me—pounds that I desperately needed.
A grin came across Kenny’s face. “So is this what you have to do every night, move around like a vagabond?”
“It hasn’t been too bad,” I replied. “Being near the water is nice.” Actually, looking for a new place to park every night was the least of my worries.
Twenty-two months earlier, my good health—something every college student takes for granted—was suddenly ripped away from me. I had been a counselor at a summer church youth camp when I began experiencing nausea, stomach cramps, and horrible digestive problems. I limped home, having lost twenty pounds in less than a week.
As my health continued to deteriorate, my parents took me to doctor after doctor in an attempt to reverse the downward trend, which was threatening to spiral out of control. Over the next few months, I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease and exhibited symptoms of rheumatoid arthritis, chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromyalgia, diabetes, extreme anemia, heart problems, urinary tract and prostate infections, yeast (Candida) overgrowth, parasites, and multiple viral infections.
My body was shutting down. The worst moment happened in the hospital late one night when I overheard a nurse crying in the hallway, telling a fellow nurse, “He’s not going to make it through the night.”
I did survive my brush with death, but my continuing health problems led to severe depression. I was down and out in every possible way. I looked into the mirror and didn’t know who I was seeing in the reflection. Most nights, I slept no more than forty-five minutes at a time. There was no escape. Day after day, night after night, was misery. I felt trapped in a prison that was my own body.
When I wasn’t in a hospital room, I visited dozens of doctors and health practitioners and was put on medication after medication. Nothing worked. My parents, feeling the pressure to do something, sent me to alternative medicine clinics in Mexico and Germany, but these desperate attempts did not work out as hoped for.
I felt great guilt when my parents mortgaged their future and spent a fortune of money on trying to get me well. My friends didn’t come around very much anymore because when you go from being the life of the party to the death of every conversation, people can’t really relate to what you are going through.
Except for Kenny and Jason. When they flew out from the East Coast to see me in San Diego, it was great to hang out with them and reminisce about old times.
They knew, when I had landed in San Diego five or six weeks earlier, that I needed wheelchair assistance from the plane to the baggage claim. Waiting for me was a nutritionist named William “Bud” Keith, who my father had reached out to after hearing about him from a friend. Bud told me over the phone that I could become well again by following the health plan in the Bible.
When I spoke with Bud, he offered to introduce me to the Bible’s eating plan if I would come to his hometown. “If you come see me, I will teach you how to eat and live, and I promise you in three months, you’ll be working out on the beach in San Diego.”