Six weeks with Summer Sarah, my ukulele, and I feel complete. God meets me at Fort Monroe every sunset, and now He's sending strangers who stop to listen to my songs.
Nature & Reflections
Getting Right with God: A Beach Encounter That Changed Everything
A mysterious man named Ray at Fort Monroe Beach asked me a simple question that cut straight to my heart: "You want a husband? Then you need to get right with God." Here's how that encounter became a prayer.
What the Botanical Gardens Taught Me About Leaving Teaching
Walking among mountain laurels with my adopted South Carolina mom, I discovered I might be a hybrid tea rose—capable of blooming two different ways. Here's what garden wisdom taught me about career courage.
Finding Words After Tragedy: Why We Write Through Grief
When Joshua died, I thought words were useless against such pain. But I discovered that writing through tragedy isn't wasted—it's how we make meaning from what feels meaningless.
From Generations of Gardens to God’s Sovereignty: A Legacy of Faith and Growth
My grandfather's tomato garden connected me to generations of Italian immigrants who knew that growing things meant trusting God's provision. Here's how tending plants taught me about God's sovereignty and my place in His eternal family tree.
Finding Rainbows After the Storm: When Life Surprises You with Beauty
I went to Fort Monroe Beach to think and got caught in a downpour. But waiting out the rain gave me a sunset, a full rainbow, and lightning strikes—all in 45 minutes. Sometimes the best gifts come when you go against traffic.
Two Months Before My Wedding: When Fear Overshadows Joy
Two months before my wedding, I should be giggling over swatches and favors. Instead, I'm stuck in fear—afraid of saying goodbye to my life in Hampton and starting over in Germany. Here's my honest struggle with pre-wedding anxiety.
My Rotator Cuff Stole My Garden—But Not My Ability to Grow Things
This April, I can't dig in the dirt or pull the lawnmower cord. But watching my students discover that alliteration mimics wind and waves, I realize: some gardens grow in syntactical soil, where seeds bloom long after the gardener moves to Germany.
Two Weeks of Pink Blooms and 155 Tuesday Nights: A Love Letter to What I’m Leaving
My Japanese magnolias bloom for exactly two weeks each March, shocking me even when I know they're coming. Like Nandy who died while I wrote last Tuesday—we just don't know how much time we have. This is my last March with these trees.
How Italy Taught Me to Own Every Part of Myself
In Italy, I could be the woman I really am—faith and all. Here's what I learned about going with the flow, embracing interruptions, and finding freedom in flat tires.
Writer's Growth 