While I adore a beautiful decorated space, I lean more practical because of the season of life we are in. My decorating style(𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖨 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗍𝗒𝗅𝖾) didn’t seem to fit traditional or modern, minimalist or maximalist.

The calling on your life will not be the exact opposite to the calling on your spouse’s.

God is not an author of confusion.

“Drink deeply from the well of Truth, for that is where your soul thirst will be quenched.”

 I find myself spending time with lists lately, small ways to remember and double check all the things. Like, maybe these lists will keep time and prevent the losing of time or that maybe they’ll help me not miss these not to be missed moments. And what I’ve found is the best way to not miss moments is often to lay the lists down and look up.

I explored the road less traveled & it made the difference.

Sit at the table with yourself long enough to be okay with being human, imperfect, flawed. Then start welcoming these women to your table:…

Still over here pulling wisteria-it’s beautiful indeed, yet horribly invasive. I’ve resided that part of the yearly tending will just require yearly culling this invasive vine. It covers, smothers-a predator to native plantings-

I find it ironic how we try to measure sin for God. We think we understand the gravity of sin more than our omniscient God does. Our human minds try to give sins levels of shame, piling guilt higher than we believe Jesus Christ has already covered.

We question if God can “𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦” our humanity, our wrongs. When we do this-whether we realize it, whether we intend to-we are trying to minimize God, to limit His presence, power, perfection. In essence, we are trying to push God away, hold Him past arms length, even trying to avoid facing how genuinely incomplete we are without His Holy Spirit in our soul. We are avoiding repentance, confession, communion, holy wholeness.

Maybe it’s guilt. Maybe it’s shame.

Maybe it’s just our human brains just cannot wrap our head around the fullness of holy, how we’ll never be able to earn the limitless grace we’ve been gifted.

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴; 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦. -𝖱𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗌‬ ‭𝟣𝟣‬:‭𝟨‬ ‭

Anxiety, pressed down and dissected apart, is worry. It is a care or concern for something to the extent that it pricks our soul. It is taking thought to something to the point that it is encumbering our mind. Anxiety causes fear, sorrow, fret, and dread because we believe that God will not care for our situation appropriately. We could minimize it, call it little faith. It is a spiritual battle, but it has roots digging deep in our soul-experiences and health roots forging deep, limbic rising into our daily heartbeats refusing to be ignored.

But here’s the deal-even though anxiety is very real, it doesn’t have to be your home. Worry and Fret don’t get the final say, you do. And that 𝗼𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗛𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗮 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹…

In every season, your margins and edges will feel a push.

Is mustard seed faith enough? Really enough? I think it is. I read an article this past summer that said the Dijon mustard industry was concerned about the lack of usable mustard, that the fields they gleaned their mustard plants to create their product from were experiencing extremely low growth. I looked further into the comment section and someone from the state of California commented- well, come here-we have so much we can’t get rid of it.

It had me thinking about what I did (and didn’t) know about mustard…

Motherhood, timeless as it may be, is tough work. Even on days we feel tired, even on days that require meticulous scheduling and juggling of multiple responsibilities, it’s helpful to remember that motherhood shouldn’t be considered a hobby/pastime. It requires continual self-education, reflection, and insight. It also is enjoyed best when entered from intentional postures.

I wonder if my soul has been a bit more of a warehouse than a lighthouse, locked safe not opened enough?

Not every day is going to be easy, and that’s okay. Your calling might break and bend you on all the correct places. Lean into it.

Google shows you where you are-start googling where you want to be.

Sometimes our prayers get answered in wild and wonderful ways. Ways, that if they’d been answered when we first asked, we wouldn’t appreciate God’s wisdom in knowing we weren’t ready for the answer quite yet. We need time and experience to understand how blooms unfold. As newlyweds, we purchased a starter home and I started gardening, my feeble inexperienced attempt at placing seed to soil and expecting a abundant blossoms to appear.

I found a book at a local library sale recently. The cover worn and spine frayed. Flipping through, I briefly caught vintage book smell of aged grass with sprinkled vanillin~it gets me every time.

The due date though? 1974~the last time this book was checked out, I was one month old…

I think we all hit a point where we understand our human-intentioned plans aren’t working. Places and spaces of grace where our sensitivities will speak to us if we take the time to listen.

Mine was glittery shoes. I know, right?

Do the flowers that bloom later in the summer have less worth than those that arrive early in the spring? Often, the summer flowers, the ones that don’t wilt under the pressure of the beating sun are hardier. They may have had to work harder to burst their beauty for all to see, but they harness patience, long suffering, perseverance. Never underestimate a late bloomer. Or their ability to make this world a more lovely place.

Seeing early signs of autumn here-even our neighbor’s silver maple is golding a bit early this year. The mornings have a crisp overtone, more so than our typical morning humid spells.

Waiting and watching for the sun to crown the rooftop like a jeweled crown.