blogging · grace · life

for real this time…

…not that it’s “regularly scheduled” but you get it. I’m removing some distractions that I create for myself so I can tend to the one thing that won’t leave me alone. This book. I have some serious fears about it all. It’s scary. It’s exciting. It’s more exciting than scary…but it’s still scary.

Please hold me to it. You can even text me anytime between 8-5 everyday and if I respond you can say, “Why are you answering my text? Go write.”

Perhaps you have a book inside you, too? You know you’re the only one that can tell YOUR story…maybe you should.

I’m not on Facebook either…I sell real estate and need to nurse my business page but I gave that to Jesus. I’m going all 1997 and finding and helping buyers and sellers without the aid of social media. We shall see how it goes…

I always have a blog up my sleeve. Something to ramble about…words I think you might enjoy or find interesting, odd or funny. It will be hard for me not to jump back on here and scribble one for you. Like I tried doing today…I wanted to talk about Hannah’s wedding…and I will. I’ll tell you about my experience with shopping and finding a mother of the bride dress. I might confess some self image issues I had to battle and how I overcame them. I’ll most certainly rattle on and on about how Hannah was a most graceful, gorgeous and together bride…and how Jordan is a welcome addition to our tribe. He already was, but now we have the papers to prove it.

I will be back when the final chapter is complete. Good grief. Why am I crying? Why is this freaking me out?!

blogging · grace · life · wisdom

dear me.

A few months back I put this picture as the screensaver on my computer…

3 year old gina.jpg

When I open it up, the first thing I see is little Gina Lynn….little 3 year old me with a bad excuse for a haircut and a dogged determination not to smile. My dad was a preacher/barber and bless his heart…he could not pray or trim my hair into submission. From what he tells me, my hair grew straight up…weightless and wispy it gathered atop my head defining the effects of static electricity.  I had big features for a child and you and I both know that looks like a little boy in a dress. I doubt I cared much about my hair when this picture was taken. I was still too young to practice the dreaded art of comparison…but I didn’t stay too young forever.

I wonder at what exact point notions of what it means to be pretty invaded that innocent little mind and took over?

I think back and recall the first time I longed for longer hair. My very first best friend had the bestest, longest, thickest blonde hair in Kindergarten. I wanted her braids and ribbons and even her tangles. She had Johnson and Johnson No More Tangles spray and it took her mom a good portion of her one life to comb those suckers out…I wanted my mom to give up her one life for some tangles.

I remember going to Six Flags with our church youth group…somewhere around my late elementary years…I had some souvenir money burning a hole in my pocket.  You remember those colored pencil sketches of your tiny body with a big head?! That’s where my money went and I wanted my money back. My caricature had short, straight hair with a cowlick,  a big nose and big ears. Apparently he drew what we looked like instead of what we wished we looked like?! Bummer. I wanted him to see me differently.  I wanted to look differently.

These facts break my heart for every little girl. Every little girl that looks at herself and wishes something different was looking back at her.

While working on my memoir it has served me well to keep this picture in clear view. I like to think about where it all began and the years between this moment and now….

I talk to her…is that weird? Oh well…let’s say it’s weird and move on. I say things like…

Don’t look at me like that…

I’m sorry…you deserved better. Ugh. I’m really sorry. 

That hair…God love it.

You’re cute…

I wish I would have loved you instead of beating you up. 

I wish I could hug you.

I do. I wish I could scoop that little girl up in my arms and tell her everything that is going to happen and how to prepare for it. I want to tell her to love herself and not waste ANY energy on trying to get someone else to love her that doesn’t want to. I want to tell her where to spend her time and where not to…which door to open and which one to avoid like the plague. So yes…as crazy as it sounds I talk to little me…

What if she talked back?

Dear Bigger Gina,

It looks like my hair finally grew in. Now that you have some, maybe you should fix it sometimes instead of always pulling it up? You can do it. Fix your hair, Regina. 

Your love of books and knowledge has taught me a lot about people and life and random things about random things. I love how curious you are. Keep reading.

Thanks for taking care of us physically…for making time for exercise and being semi-psychotic about your food choices. Aging is a natural part of this gig and I think you’re doing your best to walk us into it with grace. Good girl. Keep it up.

Wow. Those are our daughters. They are remarkable. We did that?! And now they are having children of their own?! Look at those babies?! I think I’m going to cry. So if it wasn’t for ME being here THEY wouldn’t be here?! Thank you God for allowing me to be here.

You are a good mom.

Hey. I like our husband. He’s cute. And he really, really loves you.

You are a good wife.

I hope you’ll keep writing…we’ve got one heck of a story to tell. I know there are parts that you might want to skip over but I want you to remember that if not for THAT part we would not be in THIS part..and this part is pretty amazing. 

Can you honor me?  Honor me with the words you speak, the friends you choose, the way you spend your time and the way you use your gifts. Honor the fact that we are still here and have another day to keep trying. I see you trying. 

Hey. I think you’re pretty. I do. I know you love a good filter but the best filter you can use is the one that’s already inside us. Our heart. It’s too big for us. I know. You try and ignore it because you cry easily…but honestly, that’s the prettiest thing about you. Our big sappy heart. 

Just love me. I love when you look at me and like what you see because I like being you. I like where we are and how hard you’ve worked to get us here. You are really strong. When did we get so strong? Oh yeah. Now I remember.  

We’ve come a really long way…let’s keep going.

cropped-love-gina1.png

blogging · grace · life · motherhood · wisdom

let’s go be 49…

IMG_2198For the past few years on my birthday I’ve blogged a recap of the year gone by…this year I asked my Facebook followers to ask me any questions they might have about a prior blog post or anything else they might care to know about me…I got two questions:

What is the greatest lesson I have learned in the past decade and What was my biggest challenge in raising girls…I truthfully without hesitation answered THAT one on the spot…BOYS. Quick and perhaps witty but any mama of girls will say Yes and Amen to that answer.

However…the truth and the biggest challenge I faced in raising my girls was not stinky boys or mean girls…it was not the fighting over who wore my shirt without asking or I can’t believe you left my favorite shoes at a friend’s house. No. It had nothing to do with arguments or mood swings or lack of obedience…

The biggest challenge I faced in raising my girls was loving myself as much as they desperately wanted me to love myself.

My self deprecation was alive and well while at the same time trying to convince all three of them that they were more than braces, a bad haircut or the size of their jeans. I was begging them to recognize how kind and smart and brave and beautiful they were, all the while I was hating my reflection and wishing I were more…more of what? More of anything than what I saw staring back at me.

 

 

If I were looking at 40 year old Gina in the mirror right now I would love her. I would say be nice. I would say get over it. You are not perfect…you never will be. You’ve made some mistakes but you’re still standing. It’s not EVER going to be easy. Life is super unpredictable and totally crazy and you don’t know it but your next few years are going to wreck you more than you could ever wreck yourself. Hold on sister…

So if my greatest challenge in raising my girls is anything like any of you might be facing, here is my suggestion…Stop beating yourself up. In the same way you desire for your daughters to love and accept themselves for who they are…to be authentic and kind…start with being kind to yourself. They don’t need you to be a size 2…they just need you to be you. You are the first face they look for in the audience…in the stands…in the crowd. They need you to be so crazy about yourself that when someone says, “Wow, she looks just like you!” That is a huge compliment.

The greatest lesson I’ve learned in the past decade falls in line with my first answer…I’ve learned that loving myself is not arrogant or to be ignored, but crucial in order for me to give honest love and accept love in return.

Thanks for asking.

This is just the beginning of me…

All the days before today were just training days…

Let’s go be 49,

love gina

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

blogging · family · life

i am romanian.

I asked Santa for a DNA kit for Christmas but after 70 hundred thousand dollars worth of dental work…I got dental work and perfume for Christmas. Seriously. I went in for an annual teeth cleaning and walked out wondering where the nearest plasma donation center was located. For someone who has CTBS, Chronic Teeth Brushing Syndrome, I somehow have the teeth of a homeless woman who lives on skittles, milk duds and generic cola.

I wholeheartedly dread the dentist. Give me all the monkey gas and wake me when it’s over…

So why do I want this DNA kit so bad…? Because I’m adopted. I know my birth mom so I’m not completely oblivious to my bloodline. However, I know NOTHING about my sperm donor. Thank you for your service by the way…I’m happy to be here.

When you go to the doctor, an unadopted and informed individual can most likely answer the questions when asked about family history of diseases. When I get asked I play the adoption card and say I don’t know because it’s quicker than an explanation.

This…

Do you have a family history of….

Don’t know.

I’m adopted.

Is quicker than this…

Well…you see…I know my biological mother but not the air-quote-father…and my daddy is biologically my great uncle which means when I go to family reunions I am adopted but still related to everyone? Does that make sense?…You see my grandmother…who is actually my great grandmother…lived to be just a couple days shy of her 100th! I swear that woman could touch her toes like a seasoned yoga instructor up until she passed! Now…she was blind as a bat and had cataracts…Do you think I need to get checked for cataracts? Oh…and her oldest daughter, my dad’s sister and my aunt is actually my grandmother. She died an early death. I believe in her 50’s? Cancer. Sad. I don’t really remember her. I was young… My maternal-biological-grandfather is barking at 100 and just got baptized! My paternal grandfather, who is technically my maternal great grandfather passed away in the kitchen one morning! He was eating his breakfast just like any other normal day and the angels came and took him…he was in his 70’s. Older I get that is just too young to be finished. Did you get all that? 

If you are not adopted you may not understand fully what it’s like to feel this mystery…and it’s so much more than just being able to answer your health care professional with a hint of confidence…It’s more about the wonder of what he looks like, if he’s nice, if he loves Jesus…do I have any half siblings running around this planet with my features and quirks? Has he ever wondered about me? Did he ever, at any point care if I was alive or dead? It’s deep…and I would be lying if I said it hasn’t stung a little.

And any interest in my paternal roots is NOT because I need a daddy. I have a WONDERFUL daddy. I get real defensive when someone asks me if I want to find my “real dad” or if I know my “real mom”.

This is my personal truth and one I can guess is felt by other girls wondering about the dads that got away…We want you to see us and openly, to our faces accept or reject us so we can move on. We do. And here’s why…

A father is the first male a girl ever feels acceptance or rejection from…and I’ve spent my life feeling a sense of rejection and abandonment. And when I was younger I often wondered if he saw me…if he physically laid eyes on me if he could walk away or if perhaps there was something about me worth knowing.

Don’t you agree that we all just want to be worth knowing?

So until I get my DNA kit I am Romanian.

How do I know…

I went in for a wax.

A painful waxing.

There I was in all my glory and she says…

What nationality are you?

Considering the shot or two of vodka I have to take before this delicate procedure I could have given her all the details. I tipsy talk. But I didn’t. I gracefully replied…

I don’t know exactly…I am adopted.

And then…without hesitation…as I was exposed as exposed could be, she solved the long felt mystery of my life in one statement…

You are Romanian.

I am what?

Romanian.

I am? How do you know?

I’ve been doing this for a long time and I can tell by the way hair grows along with skin tone and eye color.

Well then…you are the professional so I guess I am.

romania flag

I had no idea walking in that day that my technician was also a genealogist…but she was.

Score.

So until further notice…

I am Romanian.

love gina

 

 

 

blogging · life · wisdom

Hello 2018.

I have been buying Bath and Body Works scented wall plugs for what?…20 years now? Seems like it…might even be longer. I recently took advantage of the end of year clearance and bought all new flavors knowing it was time to change them. I have my favorite scents and part of my nesting ritual is deciding where to plug them in so the entire house has a little smelly good in all areas…usually one per room.

We’ve been remodeling and shifting some things around here and I moved the wall plug in my living room to another outlet. Days passed and I couldn’t smell anything…I thought perhaps the fragrance I chose was lighter and also blamed my stuffy nose and this cold that won’t quit. Not the case. I removed it and with the vacuum cleaner nearby plugged it in and turned it on…nothing. The outlet was to blame.

I googled what to do if an outlet does not work:

Switch the circuit breaker off until you’ve located the problem. In most cases, a tripped circuit breaker is caused by a temporary overload on the circuit or a short circuit in some device plugged into the circuit. But in rare cases, a loose wire in an electrical box could be causing the problem.

Tripped up. Temporary Overload. Short Circuits. Loose Wires.

Made me think…

I wonder how many dysfunctional things we are plugged into that are keeping us from doing what we were made to do.

It’s a new day. A new year. Ready to make some changes? Ready to get your power back?

I am!

refresco

Here. I’ll even make us a little starter checklist…

  • Look at your circle. Okay. So we all have people in our lives that can be difficult. You might want to eliminate them all together but let me offer something that has worked for me. Just step away and while you’re away, work on you and be an example. You can’t change anyone, but you can change you. Someone else’s decision making is their decision and your decision not to participate is totally up to you. Bullying is not limited to school yards. Adults can be mean. You know it. Be kind to everyone and pray for those who hurt you. Don’t exchange mean for mean. God can change hearts and perspective. I’ve witnessed this too and it’s beautiful. Please….if you only read one book this year, read Boundaries. Here’s the link…
  • Eliminate the negative thoughts. Stop beating yourself up. You are a work in progress. Everything takes time. Be good to you. Speak life over your life. If you don’t love you…why should someone else? See?
  • Unfollow.  You have all the power in deciding whose life you want a peek into. That’s all social media is…a virtual look into another person’s quick visual. Following means someone else is leading…let’s look at who we allow to lead us.
  • Delete some apps.  Clear the clutter and look up from your phone. If it’s not making you smarter, kinder, healthier or more productive get rid of it. We are captivated by our phones…our screens…technology…information. We look like a bunch of zombies. It’s sad. I don’t want to look back at my life and see how much time I wasted on things that were trivial and mundane.  Can it get worse? Yes. Can it get better? Absolutely. But it’s totally up to us.
  • Be intentional in what you watch on tv. Look. It’s good to be informed and we can’t live in a bubble of oblivion but get the main points and turn it off. The banter will drive you nuts. You do understand the news runs for 24 hours around the clock and they have to blab about something…stop giving them your ears.
  • Pray for, more than you moan about your country.  Trump won. Let the man serve and pray for him. He won’t be president forever and the unrelenting and uneducated demands at bringing down our leader make us, as a country, look foolish(er). It’s wasted energy. Are you in office? Are you planning to run for president? On that note…begin now praying for our next president.

I haven’t always practiced what I’m preaching here. The lessons have come at a price. And in regards to reformatting your circle of influence…let me add…there was a time in my life that friends I’d known and loved stepped away from me. Yep. And for good reason. Not my proudest moments. I was the one acting a fool and they in all their wisdom had to create boundaries that they felt were best for them. Ouch. Even thinking about it hurts.

Flashback…

I remember a time, just before my divorce…I was living with my sister and my life had dramatically shifted. I’d messed up. Big time. Lots of cold shoulders…and I’m not talking about the fashion trend that invaded our closets in 2017. My little world was turned upside down in a small town with one grocery store…One night the doorbell rang and my sister came to my room…”Gina, someone is here to see you.” I went outside and there she stood beside her suburban. I had yet to hear what she thought of me…I’d yet to hear anything from her. She handed me a plate of chocolate chip cookies. “Here. You need to eat.” I said thanks and she continued… “We don’t hate you. We don’t. We’re just mad at you. We’re mad at you for showing us it can happen. We are all struggling to keep our marriages in tact and if it can happen to you…it can happen to any of us. You are reality and we can’t look.” I took my cookies and went back inside. I wrote down her words and cried. They can’t look. I understood now. I had created a life that was hard to watch. They needed to step away.

It’s okay to step away…

I’d love for you to tell me your plans for 2018 in the comments section below. I will forever be the girl who loves January 1st…who loves fresh starts and new beginnings. THANK GOD FOR NEW BEGINNINGS. I am looking forward to the next 12 months but intentionally living in this very moment. I don’t want to be so plugged into something so dead that I miss finding my true purpose and power.

I pray 2018 finds you plugged into the things that give you back your power…things that allow you an opportunity to shine and emit a sweet fragrance of peace that naturally draws us into your presence and positive energy.

love gina

Continue reading “Hello 2018.”

blogging · friendship · grace · life · wisdom

…just saying

Ice Cream Party

Just saying ?….

No. Sorry. Nope. Actually…we are never…ever…”just saying”….

Words. Man. Oh. Man. The power within them…it’s SO MUCH MORE than just some consonants and vowels and sentences…inflections and expressions.

Our sentences can sentence someone to a life of wondering if what we just said is WHAT and WHO they really are?!

Maybe you are not aware of this yet, so I’m here to tell you…You have the power in your tongue to speak LIFE and DEATH.

“Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruit.” Proverbs 18:21…The Message version puts it like this: Words kill, words give life; they’re either poison or fruit – you choose.

Speak Life.

If we wanted we could take out a piece of paper and write down all the times someone has said something that hurt us, crushed us, belittled us and left us for dead. But, it would only be fair if we flipped that piece of paper over and began listing the times we lost a grip on our own tongues and flew off the handle…leaving someone questioning their worth and creating distance between us and those we love. Ouch. I wonder if the list of our own verbal scars would be much longer than the times we remember being the offender. Oh how we carry around the words spoken to us…it’s too heavy.

Let’s set it down.

Let it go.

Do better.

And do everything we can to make sure we are not increasing the load for someone else.

Can we do that?

Together?

It will truly change you when you recognize that we are all walking around with a loaded weapon…a *”humanly untameable…unruly and poisonous” beast totally ready, willing and able to destroy someone…and often someone we love. *james 3:7-8

You can’t take back what you’ve said…it’s already out there. And the sting will remain long past the apology. “Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt” ~Abraham Lincoln.

And if what is coming out of our mouth is rude and nasty and distasteful…well…here’s another thing we need to know:

Our words are just our hearts talking…yep…

“A good person produces good things from the treasury of a good heart, and an evil person produces evil things from the treasury of an evil heart. What you say flows from what is in your heart.” ~ Luke 6:45 NLT

Heart Check.

We have soooooo many ways to communicate a message! Face to face, phone, text, email, social media….so many ways to get it wrong and wish we’d stopped before we fired that weapon.

How about this…before we open our Chatter Boxes let’s PAUSE and ask ourselves:

  • Are my words going to build up or tear down?

  • Will my words encourage or discourage?

  • Use the TKN acronym: Is it True? Is it Kind? Is it Necessary?

  • Am I gossiping?

  • Is this MY story to tell?

  • Do I really…like really know what I’m talking about?

  • Will I still feel this way tomorrow? You’ll be amazed at how different you feel about something if you just give it 24 hours.

  • Is silence in this moment a better option?

IMG_1317

And look here…

  • If you have to say, “Don’t say anything, but…” before you say anything…just don’t.

  • Taking a verbal jab at someone followed by “just kidding” is not funny. No one is laughing.

I’m sure you can add to the list but it’s a good place to start…don’t ya think?

And remember this one too…

To belittle someone is to be little.

Let’s be the bigger person…

love gina

 

 

 

blogging · favorites · friendship · grace · life · motherhood

g i r l f r i e n d s.

g i r l f r i e n d s bw

I am trying to squeeze all my thoughts on this topic into a blog post and it’s IMPOSSIBLE. Oh for the splendor of having someone in your life that gets you! That knows you. That knows you and hey…loves you anyway. The one who remembers things about you that you’ve long since forgotten, but speaks into you to remind you who you are…Whose you are…how FAR you’ve come and exactly why you are still standing.

We need our girlfriends.

Okay. Now. Stop. Before I continue I want you to write down the names of your tried and true gal pals.  Your chums. Your squad. Got it?  Now finish this sentence for each name:

I knew we were friends for life when…………………………………………………….

What happened after you met that told you this is my person. That’s MY friend. What qualities did this person possess that you knew you wanted in your own life?

I put this question out last night on Facebook and Instagram and within a few minutes I’m crying as precious friends (that I wish I could see more often!) answered my post. I knew how much these girls meant to me, but to hear they feel the same, melted me for a minute. If we don’t ask…we don’t know. I’m so glad I asked.

Years ago my daughters and I were on a long road trip and I asked them:

If you had $1000 and you had to spend it on a dinner party and invite 5 people…who would you invite, what would you serve and where would it be?

We went on lots of road trips but this one is buried in my memory because of their answers…as well as mine.

I remember laughing when Hannah, my youngest, said her dinner party would be on an island with Lizzie Mcguire (Hilary Duff) and four of her classmates from school. She was going to stretch that $1000 real good like…we love our Hannah.

After they all three finished they asked me my answer…

I thought about it and chose five friends that I’d gathered over the span of my life…we were on a back porch with a long wooden table eating woodfired pizzas. Then Paige, my oldest asked…“Why them?”

“Because these are the women that I want in YOUR life. Not just mine…but yours.”

When I think about my close friends they truly are representative of the nature I want my daughters to emulate. They are kind and funny and compassionate. They live to build others up instead of tearing them down. They are encouragers and not discouragers. If they have children, they love them well…and the ones who don’t…they love mine like they are their own.

In Search of Friendship

If you feel friendless get out there and find someone to love! You have to be a friend first. You are not the only one wishing you had a buddy! Pray about it and tell God what you need in a friend. Ask Him to allow your path to cross with someone that would enrich your life and grow you as a person! Pray for ways you can be a friend to someone and pour into their life with the wisdom you’ve gained from your own life lessons.  You will be amazed at how quickly this works…

Built in Friends.

I was over and above blessed to have sisters and daughters…built in friendships that God chose for me. I adore my sisters and they love me like no tomorrow. They are listeners and teachers and paved a sweet path of motherhood for me to watch and follow. I adore my children. I am at my best when I’m with my daughters. They encourage me to raise my standards in excellence and bow my head in prayer. They are witty and wise and the four of us together is a force to be reckoned with. These are relationships I will NEVER have to question…but I didn’t stop at this. I wanted to be friends with YOU. You know who you are…and if you don’t…ask me. Send me a message and ask me how I knew we were friends for life. I’ll tell you. I know exactly why.

 

Continue reading “g i r l f r i e n d s.”

blogging · faith · friendship · grace · life

find your happy place.

I was having a conversation with my mother-in-law, aka Hunney…aka Judith…about life and health and responsibility and such…she has a mass amount of land that requires her attention and during the course of our chat I told her Kurt mentioned us growing a garden. Funny.  As keen as the idea seems, I am the last person I know that needs to try and keep a plant alive…much less a garden.

I apologize to plants as I tote them home…thinking maybe…just maybe…THIS time I’ll do something right and they will hang around and make like John Travolta and stay alive. I rarely leave Trader Joe’s without herbs. I know our relationship will be shorter than a southern cold spell but I buy them anyway.  After putting the groceries away and planning meals around my zesty new friends, I gingerly place them in a mason jar and rub the leaves between my thumb and index finger… emitting the sweet aroma of mint, basil, cilantro and lemon balm….ahhhhh….I’m so Ree Drummond sometimes. Pioneerish and capable of surviving off the land.  It’s just another day at the county fair for me as I rustle up some biscuits from scratch and spatchcock our former pet chicken for deep frying. I’m so born for this….

Not.

As I type these words I have zero sign of fresh herbs in my house and a dead pot of what was once geraniums on my front porch. Crusty leaves of brown and beige atop cracked soil next to a watering can that symbolized hope. I have super good intentions. I really do.  After painting our front door a welcoming shade of buttery yellow I bought the bright red blossoms as an accent piece that would welcome guests across the threshold of our house.  For a good week or two I watered this plant with care and consideration of its dependency on me for life…I hoped my neighbors saw me out there tending my container garden and found inspiration in their own souls to nurture the land we’ve been given.

Then this happened.

We went out of town.  The morning sun blazes just enough light that overtime, without enough moisture, will apparently suck the life out of a pot of geraniums. As we drove out of town I gave my front porch one last prideful glance knowing I’d seen the last of those perky red blossoms.  I didn’t ask a neighbor to care for it or remove it from the sunny spot to a safer refuge…nope…that would have taken 2 minutes. Nope. I left it there parched and dry in a weary land of abandonment.

dead plant

As I’m telling her that a garden grown by me is a nice thought but a long shot due to my plant murdering rap sheet, she stops me to say the solution is simple…

“It’s not that you are a plant killer…you’re just putting the plants in a place where they cannot survive. You have to find their happy place.”

She went on to explain that when a plant grown up north calls for 4-6 hours of sunlight that amount of southern sun will kill it. She said for me to watch how a plant reacts in certain locations and if it fails to thrive, move it someplace else. Makes sense. And reminds me of this…how many times have I’ve been in a job…relationship…environment…where if I didn’t move myself I’d wither up and die?

Years ago, like I’m talking 1990 something…I was going through a difficult season and feeling frustrated about a lot of things…I confided in a good friend and she sent me a card in the mail with the words Bloom Where You’re Planted printed on the front. A colorful Mary Engelbreit card that should have made me smile…instead I remember thinking to myself, I don’t want to bloom here! I can’t bloom here! Don’t tell me where to bloom! Bloom this. Just because you’re planted and ABLE to bloom doesn’t guarantee you CAN or WILL…just saying.

Succulents are all the rage…wanna know why? They aren’t needy.  You can bring as many home as you like and sit them on a shelf and get on with your life. You only need to acknowledge their presence once a week….it’s a low maintenance relationship and even the weakest of green thumbs can foster a cactus.

Sometimes you feel like a succulent…sometimes you don’t. When your environment is harsh on top of your heart and soul feeling vulnerable and delicate…you are more geranium than aloe vera and that’s okay! Own your neediness and weaknesses and keep moving until you find a place that feeds you and allows you to thrive.  God understands seasons of change. Go read Ecclesiastes 3. There is a time for everything…

Kurt and I are in this season.  We’ve lots to pray about and we love our friends that encourage and feed into us while we consider what’s next.  I encourage you to do the same if you are at that place of knowing it’s time for a change.

Thanks for being here. Thanks for reading my ramblings…it’s my love language. I write and hope you find encouragement.

And you never know, Judith…Perhaps I will one day own and maintain a garden and smile as we crunch a cucumber grown by yours truly. Until that day….

love gina