reflection – Page 2

The Weary Traveler

Have you ever just watched what is going on around you when you travel? I mean notice the people flying past you because they cut it a little too close for their flight. Or the tired mom who has a kid strapped to her, one in the stroller, and is dragging a carry on? What about the harassed TSA worker who people treat them like they personally made the security rules just to harass them?

I think with the different legs of this trip the oddities of the human race has struck me more than it usually does. It is sad to me how often a smile, “please”, and “thank you” catches people off guard. I’ve had people look at me like “what do you want” and people whose whole face lit up when they returned the gesture. It takes so little to be just a little bit kind but I can tell from watching those around me that kindness is drifting farther and farther away. Having spent many hours with crew members and watching airport workers this last week I have huge respect for what they put up with on a daily basis.

I realize it’s a sign of the times but the amount of people we ran into with zero self awareness – of others’ personal space or of their own volume – left me with ringing ears and a very intense fight or flight response (more flight than anything). I realize that with alcohol involved that is not uncommon but sheesh. I’ve been elbowed out of the way for food, had my suitcase run into when the person coming at me had six feet on the other side of them and I was walking along a wall, and been run out of my seat because the person next to me or behind me was yelling like they were at a sporting event to a person sitting less than a foot from them. I’ve seen a crew member cleaning up puke in a sink in the bathroom when a toilet was literally a foot away. I’ve talked to a lady who had to go change her shorts after sitting at a slot machine where someone opted to pee in the chair rather than go to the bathroom.

I realize this echos my last post about will kindness ever come back in fashion but how have we evolved so far from the compassionate loving creatures that God created us to be. How have we all become so focused on what WE want and what makes US feel good that we can’t extend care and compassion to those around us whose circumstances may be dramatically different than ours? What gives us the right to treat workers at airports, restaurants, and cruise ships like they are lesser than us just because they make their living in a service industry? Have you ever stopped and thought about how bad the job market must be in these Eastern European countries that they have to come here and deal with us in order to take care of their parents or children? Have we really drifted that far in the human race? To not realize that a series of different choices or factors out of our control could have placed us in the exact same position?

I miss the genteel way my grandma raised me to behave – do unto others as you would have done to you – being present in the world as a whole. Where you said please, thank you, and bless you, where ladies covered what God blessed them with, hats came off at the table, and you’d never wear pajamas to the airport or a swimsuit in the dining room at a restaurant. I’ll never ever regret traveling and I’m not perfect at kindness by any stretch of the imagination. I have my days where I literally just want to get from point a to point b at my speed and on my timeline without dealing with anyone. But when I stop and think about it I can chill.

How easily it could be me that was dependent on the kindness of others in order to keep my lights on or feed my children.

So for those of you who will read this when scrolling killing time at the airport or on a cruise ship or on the bus – say hello and smile to the person next to you. Or to the person taking your food order or sweeping the bathroom. That one kindness may wind up being the highlight of their day.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Will they ever come back into fashion?

I’m gonna age myself here but I can remember driving down the road with my grandpa and it being more uncommon to hear someone lay on their horn than it is now. As I learned to drive, and doing so in a small town no less, basic acknowledgment when someone let you in or moved to the shoulder to let you pass was commonplace. Where a hand written note as a thank you when given a gift was a given not an option.

We all know that everything comes back into fashion in one way or another. How many kiddos are wearing fanny packs slung across their body (like it’s a new idea) or bell bottoms? 😆

I guess the thought puzzling me today is – will kindness and good old fashioned compassion ever become fashionable again?

I miss the days where men took off their hats when they walked indoors and especially when they sat down at a table to eat. Where men held open doors for women without a second thought. (One of the things I adore about Tim is he opens the car door every single time we go anyplace – no matter the weather.) Where please, thank you, and yes sir no sir rolled off of our children’s tongues because they knew if their mama found out they didn’t there would be hell to pay. Where shaking your opponents hand at the conclusion of a game was more important than a participation trophy. Where a child in the classroom wouldn’t ever even think about sassing their teacher lest she call his parents.

Will any of this ever come back in style? Kindness and compassion? Feeling sorry for the mama with the screaming baby instead of judging her because her overtired two year old can’t contain himself any longer while she is just trying to get stuff for dinner on the way home after a 12 hour work day? Where people stop when they see an accident happen instead of going on by because they don’t want to get involved? Or whip their phone out to record a situation instead of helping?

As a mama I truly hope so. Seeing the changes in the world just in the last twenty years makes me afraid for what it will be like by the time my kids are my age.

What good old fashioned values do you miss most?

Blessings y’all – Amy

Balance or Boundaries?

This is a topic we have been exploring in counseling the last couple of visits and one I’ve taken my time with my thoughts before putting it here. Anyone who knows me I struggle with giving anything less than 1000% to everything – almost always at my own detriment. Work is a perfect example. When the counselor found out that I come home, after working all day, and the first thing I do is check my work email when I walk in the door it was a red flag. Same with being tied to the phone over the weekend and when on vacation. I have an unhealthy obsession with email. There. I said it. And coming to terms with that has taken more work than I ever thought it could.

“You can’t have balance without boundaries but you can have boundaries and still be out of balance.”

Let that just sit there for a minute and marinate. What is balance in today’s world? Where is the line between a healthy balance and the attitude of “not my job”? I’m old school – the “40 hours and that’s it” or “not my job” attitude that is so prevalent in most work places makes me slightly insane. Yet – do those people have it right as far as having a healthy work life balance? Is it either black and white or is there a lot of gray somewhere between?

I’ve recently changed my work schedule to allow Tim and I an extra 45 minutes before the alarm goes off. I’ve been at it for three weeks and it still feels like I’m doing something wrong. Like that 45 minutes is shorting work somewhere along the way. And being honest I’ve already slipped into not being as diligent with my end of day out time. But that guilt is still present.

Jumping off of work for a second – what about in relationships? Extracurricular activities? It’s interesting looking back on the kids’ childhood in that light. It came very easily to Fred and I to put boundaries on family time and not fall into the club sports/insane schedule lifestyle that rules so many families today. We felt strongly that (while there are a few exceptions) statistically the chance of a child’s’ post childhood success with any sport or extracurricular was slim while the investment in time with them as a family would have lifelong benefits. Why did that boundary come so easily and without a second thought but all other boundaries I feel like I’m letting someone (everyone) down? Relationship boundaries are very hard for me. Tim comments all the time on those that I keep close despite that offline that make me more than a little nutty – he doesn’t understand it. For him it’s black and white – if you are doing things that make him unhappy/hurt him you aren’t part of his world. I’ve learned a tremendous amount from my mother in law about navigating the world of adult children and their lives and invisible boundaries adult kids put down.

All this to say – where do you have balance in your life and is that because of conscious boundaries you’ve put into place? Where could you use more boundaries to achieve balance? Honestly want to hear thoughts!

Blessings y’all – Amy

The Circle of Life

I can remember being in my late teens and early 20’s when 40 was “old”. I can remember being young enough to not recognize maturity and wisdom when it was handed to me as my elders tried to prevent me from repeating the past. I can remember being young enough to be fearless of the choices I was making (though never as adventurous as I wanted to be). That fearlessness is what makes us leap to be parents. To fall in love, to buy a home, to move cross country, or to choose a career off the beaten path.

Then we hit empty nest season. Most of the time that season starts in our 40’s. Now as we have free time we have the maturity and wisdom to know things we aren’t blessed with knowing in our 20’s (nor willing to listen to). Moving makes us think twice, three times, and then decide we don’t have the desire to start over. This is the time of life we start losing celebrities we grew up on or people close to us that have always been there like parents or grandparents.

Things start to hurt, ache, our bodies become a stumbling block rather than an aid. Our minds are still sharp, we want to DO something with this time of life, but aren’t always able to reconcile mind with body. Now is the time we get what I call the “birds eye view” of the circle of life. We begin to face the inevitability that our children will have to carry on someday without us the same as we learned to live with the hole in our heart left when our elders left us.

We begin to learn how precious time is. Things that incited us in our 20-30’s no longer seem worth the energy of getting mad. We tend to hold onto things that bring us fond memories and nostalgia is our constant friend. We begin to call our kids’ music “noise” and miss the days we could understand the lyrics in a song and not get a headache from listening to the radio. We also realize we aren’t invincible. Bones break. Muscles ache. We forget things. We choose comfort over beauty. We start to look forward to retirement more than going to work and dealing with the grind everyday.

I am convinced that if we had the wisdom in our 20’s-30’s that the latter half of life brings us the world would be a different place. Less anger. More appreciation for each other and our paths. Maybe that is just fanciful thinking of an aging woman.

I first heard the phrase “Circle of Life” in the Lion King (didn’t most of us?). Not sure I ever really appreciated what it meant until I got to this phase of life. Would I change any part of my 20’s & 30’s? Absolutely not. I learned how to love, I grew up, I raised a family. Those years were hard – harder than they probably should have been – but those years gave me a deep appreciation for love and family. Those days make me treasure moments with my children and never take my husband for granted.

Someday my kids will be 45. Hopefully I’ll still be here and not an ache in their heart the way my grandparents are in mine. Hopefully they’ll be as blessed as I was with them and as full of memories as I am. More than anything I want that for them. And that, my friends, is what I think the true circle of life is. ❤️

Blessings Y’all – Amy

What’s In A Name?

When Tim and I got engaged one of the first questions I was asked over and over was if I was going to change my name. My immediate answer was “yes”. I’m an old school southern girl….why was that a question? I was a little stumped but too busy to analyze. I couldn’t do anything about it anyway until after my Thanksgiving trip so I shelved it though it never left my tumultuous overthinking brain.

Lanford has been my identity for more of my adult life than not. It’s the name my kids have (by birth or by a Fred declaration). It represents my years as a young woman learning to be a wife and a mom. It represents a chapter that I may have turned the page but it as much a part of who I am as green eyes or brown hair. There are so many reasons I love Tim but perhaps the most special reason is the room he makes in our life for my kids and Fred. His point of view is he knows he wouldn’t have me if the kids and I hadn’t lost Fred so he respects and makes space of that part of our life. He spends time with the kids and participates in traditions that pre-date him by a decade. I’m telling you I don’t deserve this man…

As Bev and I prepared for this years Turkey trip I started pulling together a list of what was involved in becoming Mrs. Davis. Holy cow Batman. Passport. Global Entry. Social Security. Drivers License. Credit cards, bank accounts, investment accounts, utilities, mortgages, etc etc etc. The list is freaking endless. Turns out it is a hell of a lot harder to change your name as a 40 something established woman than a girl in her 20’s starting her life.

The task is paralyzing. Suddenly I understood why woman far wiser than I am had asked the question to begin with. Add to that that it makes absolutely no difference to Tim if I change it or not (he says he’s got the girl and that’s what matters) and I began to question my sanity at embarking down this road. I had a lot of time to think this week. To seek counsel from Tim’s mom and Bev. To really try and wrap my mind and heart around what to do.

I’ve been wrestling with what I was taught and all these other factors. There is a part of me that can freely admit I am overwhelmed at the task with all the other things going on at work and know it’ll just be “easier’ to keep Lanford. There is a place in my heart that doesn’t want to give up Lanford because it’s my connection to my kids and niece (yes I know they will still love me as Davis.) I can’t talk about that connection to the kids without crying. I can’t find peace in my heart with either decision. Turns out there is a quite a lot to a name.

My sweet husband did the research and there is no time limit on changing it. I can sit with it until I’m sure either way or until life slows down. For now, I’ll continue to pray, seek counsel, and wait on peace to come either way. I trust that God knows who I am regardless of my name and will give me clarity when it’s time.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Things Change…

26 minutes into a sermon that if God could have physically pushed me to listen to He would have…that was the name of that section of the chapter. Things Change.

If you are looking into my life right now from the outside, it wouldn’t take you a hot second to figure out there is a lot changing in my world. That “Change” could be the name for the summer of 2023. (Summer is ALWAYS when my life has major changes.) When Tim and I take a second to analyze this summer we talk about the good and bad changes. Obvs is that the good change of getting married. Officially joining our two families and our Brady Bunch of dogs. Less good would be his hospital stay, the permanent arrival of diabetes in our life, and the loss of Grammie.

Deeper than that is the whirlwind my head is doing at the transition between what my life was and what it will be. They don’t give you a manual in life for navigating grief, losing your in law family (for the most part) in the process, falling in love again, and entering into a new family. You can fall head over heels madly in love with someone…and still have days you miss all that you knew before. And you KNOW you won the lottery of guys – when you can tell him that and he understands that. Not only understands it….but isn’t threatened by it. In addition, Tim’s friends and family has been amaze balls at welcoming me. It’s easy to see where he gets his generous spirit.

The last few weeks have been littered with tears, panic attacks, and anxiety. I’ve had trouble placing my finger completely on why until my sweet niece nailed it on the head (again) as she is so prone to doing. It’s grief. Again. My boss doubled down on that and said “yep that makes sense, you did this when you and Tim started dating and you realized he was important.” It’s slightly amusing how often I forget I’m surrounded by people who know me better than I know myself. With all changes comes moving forward and farther away from what I’ve known.

I read something in the new anxiety journal I started this week that said anxiety sufferers literally live in flight or fight mode all the time bracing for doom. It’s an involuntary psychological reflex. My summer hasn’t helped that I’m sure. One of the reasons I picked up the journal though is I am hyper aware that this is a season in my life that I should be able to finally let my guard down and have joy and I’m missing it. I am literally missing it in this state I’ve been in. Insomnia is my friend, eating is an erratic activity of either little to none or way too much, and tears are always on the surface. It’s bonkers. (Side note though – I’m also going through tremendous changes at work and that’s not helping!)

But while I am a long way from being able to deal with it as I get older I am coming to understand that the constant in this life is…change. I’ve come leaps and bounds in the last few years in how I deal with things and while I don’t enjoy the tears and panic attacks those are healthier (knowing what they are and how to deal with them) than the ways I have in the past.

Today I will be surrounded by seven women who have impacted my life in one way or another and we will celebrate this season of change. Because four weeks from today I marry a man who has changed me more than I thought was possible a few years ago.

Dang “C” word. It can be a good word too.

Blessings y’all – Amy

12 Years Later….

I’m very nostalgic these days, and I know that’s normal with all the change that is going on in my life, but today’s trip down memory lane is triggered by the calendar. 12 years ago today I started at TLC. When I texted my bosses this weekend to share my engagement news all I could think was how many life events I’ve walked through while seeking refuge inside these four walls. How the person that they see day in and day out has changed in the last twelve years. Hell, I don’t even have a picture of myself on my phone that goes back that far….

Twelve years ago Fred and I walked through these doors together. I had been interviewing to make a change from the small struggling landscape company I was working for because I was tired of chasing payroll each week. One of the interviews I had gone on was good friends with our owner here. I got a call and being the “we’re a package deal” person I was I asked if they needed a garden manager too. Turns out they did. When we started in July 2011 TLC was operating out of a house with several buildings attached and a huge yard. I fell in love with the yard dog named Tigre and discovered I was very much a dog person (sorry kitties!). Now I have six dogs!

It would be not long after that that Lee moved in with us and we were bursting at the seams in the townhouse. October 2012 TLC moved into the office where we are now – the same weekend we moved into our first house! Where I promptly came down with bronchitis from the stress and an untreated sinus infection.

We lost PawPaw in May of 2014. TLC never missed a beat in their unwavering support. It was the first really significant loss for me in my life and while I stuffed it (or thought I did) I know now it changed me. It changed how I interacted with my family so I know it changed how I dealt with everyone. Sometime in that same year we started dialysis on Fred. Not gonna lie I was in so much pain the dates get really fuzzy. TLC was completely supportive of my completely unstable schedule and I worked from the dialysis clinic, early mornings, weekends, late nights – work was my escape when I could get it from everything as I knew it changing at home.

February-ish 2015 Fred became unable to keep working. He wasn’t safe behind the wheel and his eyes were shot. Yet again TLC was the one constant. I was the provider of the house and work was my safe place. Through dialysis, Fred’s amputation and rehab, all of it – all I got was support from almost everyone.

I’ll never forget the call I got from the owner the day I had to say guys it’s almost time for Fred to go and I need to be here. “Whatever you need – we’re here”. So much is fuzzy from that time and the years after. But I remember that. Work had been my escape but I was able to turn it off and be right where I needed to be at the end. That’s something there aren’t enough words to be thankful for.

Somewhere in all those years we got three kids through high school, graduated, and two of them through college/trade school, and married off!

COVID years, the bottoming out I did in 2020 where most people don’t know just how low I got, and the recovery period of the last few years….still they were here. Even the days I said “I don’t wanna do this anymore…” my boss walked me through it when I know he really probably just wanted to strangle me. He had no experience with depression, and anxiety, and all the things that plague me but steady as a rock he’s been.

Sometimes we have to look back to be able to know how far we’ve come and see all the lows and highs to appreciate it. To know that it’s normal to have days you want to run away from home because home will always be there. It’s a constant. It’s where your heart is – when it’s hurting, when it’s broken, and when it’s so filled with joy you are going to burst.

12 years later I’m thankful that no matter how far my wanderlust takes me I’ll always have a home to return to.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Don’t Waste It…

As I look back on my life I’m reminded over and over again how precious life is. Yet God continues to send these huge grand reminders of how quickly it can change because apparently I keep forgetting. Guess I’m a slow learner in His mind? I get lost in the minutia of being a workaholic. I get lost sometimes still (though I’m much better than I was) in the noise in my head. I get lost analyzing if I am enough, did enough, said enough, or was enough for whoever whenever. #inserteyeroll

I stumbled around in a fog of darkness from 2014-2021. I had moments that I remember but mostly at this point there is just pain and darkness. One of the reasons I am religious with TimeHop every day is because despite the days it brings tears it reminds me there was joy. There were moments I remembered to soak up time with my children. There were moments I called them out for being the amazing human beings they are (when you doubt yourself as a mom these reminders are important). There was joy and thankfulness and immersion in the moments.

As I’ve tried to stop myself from doing a deep dive off the dark cliff that is currently looming in my head I need these reminders. It’s a long time adage that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle. Maybe it’s not that He thinks I’m a slow learner….maybe it’s that He is reminding me not to waste this life He has given me. Not to spend every waking moment (and moments I should be sleeping) obsessing about work and if the yard is nice enough. Maybe it’s His reminder to love harder. Laugh longer. Live LOUDER. One of the biggest benefits of counseling is that it teaches you to look at what is fact and what is feeling. What I’m feeling right now is scared. Overwhelmed. Tired to my bones. But the facts are that this man, this relationship, and the ME of today is different. Each day is different and the outcome can (and will) be different.

I’ve heard from several people already that this situation we’ve found ourselves in has triggered change in their life. Reminded them of what they need to be doing. So as I look for silver linings to all the crap life is throwing our way right now…that’s the one I’m focusing on.

Don’t waste it peeps. Life can and will change on a dime. Work doesn’t matter – you’d be replaced in a heartbeat. Crappy relationships – put your time and energy into people who see your light inside and encourage it to shine. Do the thing you’ve been telling yourself you are going to do – no more procrastinating. Just live as loud as you can and don’t waste a moment. The time we have here and the people we are given to love are precious.

Blessings y’all – A

Fathers Remembered

It’s taken me a few days to organize my thoughts about Father’s Day. One thing I’ve learned about grief…there are times to share it in order to heal and let your tribe carry you. And there are times to be still in it and just….remember.

For those of you who don’t know my story – my mother is on husband number five if you count the one she married twice. My dad said peace out the first time when I was about a year old and permanently when I was around eleven. To be fair he is an addict and he can’t handle life let alone my mother or a kid who was born with a birth defect and needed constant medical attention from birth until age 18. No idea where he is but the last time I looked he was doing a stint as a guest of the state if you know what I mean.

My mother is a peach when it comes to men. “Father” #2/3 was abusive. In all forms of the word. When we finally got away from him it was straight into the home of “Father” #4. An improvement from the previous one save for the fact he was emotionally abusive. He only wanted my mom…us kids with our assorted problems were baggage. Blessedly I don’t know hubby #5 and never will, I’ve cut that tie, but I’ve heard he’s more of the same. How I wound up with the angel I married and the one I now live with is only by the grace of God. Certainly not by example!

I digress. My point with all that is that my PawPaw was the only constant positive father figure in my life. When my mother couldn’t handle my medical issues she would dump me at my grandparents for them to take me to doctors appointments, care for me, etc. Mom and PawPaw were the epitome of what home life for a kid should have been like! Summer church camp when they could convince my mom to let me go, camping at the lake with their friend group, favorite stories, all of it. When I found out Em was coming I was more afraid of letting down PawPaw than anyone…and he didn’t miss a beat. He used to take me out to hunt for Sesame Street baby stuff for her when I decided that was the theme for her nursery.

He’s been gone nine years now. There are still days I just want to call him and ask him how I do something. Fix something. What he thinks about something. As I get older more and more of the people around me are in the same boat my heart hurts for all of us but it somehow makes it easier.

There is no escaping the pain of knowing my kids pain on Father’s Day though. They are too young to have to bear that hurt. Too young to have to have all those painful moments where they just want their dad and he’s not there. Fred should be here for all the ways their lives are changing. For the young adults they have turned into. To give them the guidance that only a dad can give. See one thing I’ve learned as I get older is once they cross that adult line moms and dads have more clearly defined roles than they did when it was just snot and diapers. They can’t fill in for each other.

Some of the things my kids have told me that Fred had to say when I was out of earshot make me shake my head. One because I can see him being that mischievous and two because they go directly against some of our parenting philosophies. But Fred wasn’t as overprotective as I was/am. Because of the things I survived as a kid I knew how ugly the world is and wanted to hold on so so tight. He knew they needed wings. That’s the biggest thing I wish he and they hadn’t missed…

But you can spend your life in a constant state of missing the past and filled with regret or you can be thankful for what you had and cherish the memories. I think my point in all this is that this Father’s Day, while I hurt as much as I always do, I also just chose to remember them. The way they cut up together. Made me laugh. Protected me and loved me no matter what. Neither ever judged me for all the ways I know now that I was broken and flawed. Neither ever ever told me I was doing it wrong – life, parenting, anything. They just loved me. And that is worth honoring their memories and just remembering them. PawPaw as the father he was to me and Fred as the father he was to my children.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Rooted in Blessings

Most of my world right now revolves around “green stuff” as Tim calls it. (For those of you who follow me on Insta or FB sorry about the garden overload!) But when I was watching a show I follow on Discovery + called ‘Growing Floret’ the other night it finally clicked as to why, after 23 years in the landscape business, this is the year I’m so passionate about it.

After Fred passed the flight reflex I’ve always had got worse. Way worse. I wanted to be anywhere but home. My mind was filled of thoughts of getting out of Texas, anywhere but here, I didn’t care. Never really realizing that I was running from what was inside. And that no matter how many miles I put between home and those that loved me I wouldn’t be able to ever escape until I stopped and healed.

Cue up today. I’ve always had a green thumb. I will proudly say I got that from my grandfather. But in years past my gardening was to pay homage to him. To be close to Fred. It wasn’t about me. It was about pleasing them, honoring them, missing them. What I have finally realized is different about this year is that the fear is gone. Fear of “doing it wrong”. Fear of disappointing them. Fear of anyone’s judgement if it doesn’t yield, look right, blah blah blah. Something about the changes in me in the last two years have allowed me to do this for ME this year. And to be ok with it being for me. I still look at all my magazines. Watch the green shows until Tim, I’m sure, wants to throw the remote and I soak up TikToks and YouTubes like a sponge. But if it dies? Doesn’t yield like I want? Pull it up and start again. (There is a life metaphor in there somewhere I’m sure.)

This spring in my business hasn’t been any different. In fact it’s been 100x worse. My anxiety, when I focus on it, is off the charts. Panic attacks are a new thing I’m not really fond of. I’m going through huge changes at work. The pressure is intense. But a not so little difference this year? I pull up to the stop sign at the corner each day and my body lets out a breath. I sit at that stop sign for a fraction longer than I have to and I take in my yard. It’s not pride I feel. It’s peace. I’m home. More importantly? I WANT to be home.

As I walk towards my “shades of Caribbean” painted gate along the brick path that I saw in my magazines and Tim made a reality the fear, stress, and worry of the day seeps out of me. The gladiolus are starting to reward me with gorgeous blooms that make me smile. Once I get inside the gate I have to force myself to go inside and say hello to Tim and the dogs before I race back outside to see what changed in the last 24 hours in the garden. (And yah somedays I forget to say hello to them!).

I grab my “f*&% it bucket” as I call it – which houses a skirt with all my tools on it and a wide open space for all the weeds I’ll pull and cuttings I’ll take off if need be – and I head outside. I usually have about 45 minutes after I get home while Tim is still working that I get to be outside in the garden and unwind. Tim worries constantly that I’ve bitten off too much, that it’s too much work, and what I can’t quite make him understand is that it’s a form of medicine that if they ever figured out how to bottle would put the pharmaceutical companies out of business.

Despite having harvested about 10 lbs of squash at this point I squeal like a teenager at each new little “baby” that emerges. I check the cukes and wait impatiently for enough to be ready to start canning. I hover over my tomatoes like a mother bird – so afraid the squirrel is gonna take them again this year. I pore over seed catalogs and sites looking for something new and different I can try my hand at growing.

And I now I realize. Despite my teasing Tim about his travels this summer – I am content to know I’m gonna be home in my garden. I’ve waited a long time to feel some sense of home and hearth again. To be able to open my heart to love and to be loved again. All of those things are the reasons my home and my heart are thriving. Like my beautiful plants God nurtured me through the tough times, watered and fertilized me when I was withering, and now my roots are strong again. I trusted him when I was broken and dying and unable to see the sun and he nurtured me the same way I do any of my plants.

Colossians 2:7 – Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness.

I’m thankful. So very thankful. Blessings y’all – Amy