I’ve always loved writing.
And then I had kids and something warm lit within, a spark fueled by watching my joy bundles breathe in the world and exhale out a simpler, unjaded version.
Suddenly words had new meaning, my heart barely containing this lava love heaped with awe and gratefulness to our creative Creator. It’s my sons that ignite this passion for words, this deep desire to connect with moms all over, to journey through the sticky, joy-wrapped, child-raising adventure I’ve come to know in apologies and prayers.
So. I. Write.
To focus on the everyday blessings.
Because they are everywhere, begging to be put to words, to join together with a million air particle miracles and bring today.
I love seeing how God weaves passions and purpose into each of our stories. Each of us can look back and see His prompting, His nudges, and at times, His protective silence.
For years, I saw only wandering in the desert, searching for purpose, my hands in the air, a question mark hovering above.
And all the while, those air particle miracles were journeying alongside, waiting on God’s perfect timing.
And it’s come! His perfect timing in me. And it’s only the beginning.
My heart heaps with awe and gratefulness for God’s patience and provision.
I now write.
And I’m tickled pink with appreciation for the once-small spark now bright with flame.
And forever thankful to my sons for helping me discover my love for writing.