Three years ago, I typed 'I used to be a writer... even a wife.' Now, rain or shine, you'll find me on this white wicker loveseat every Tuesday. Some costumes get retired, others reclaimed. But writer? That one's not 'used to be' anymore—it's who I am.
Writing Life
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.
Grief Without a Manual: Finding God in the Juxtaposition of Life and Death
When my grandmother passed, I discovered that grief doesn't follow neat stages. Sometimes it's an existential cloud that makes you question everything—including how to keep writing when words feel inadequate.
Somewhere Between Rome and Capri, I Stopped Waiting for Permission to Live
In Italy, I wasn't teacher or girlfriend—just a woman sneaking cloves and sharing espresso with strangers. No judgment, complete freedom. When in Rome, I learned the answer isn't to do as Romans do. It's simpler: Live. Now back home, that lesson fights every normal, daily routine.
The Counselor Who Taught Me That Writing Is My Best Therapy
When Charming and I needed couples counseling, I knew finding the right therapist would be like finding fertile soil. Here's what I learned about growth, vulnerability, and the tools we need to heal.
How God Used My Writing to Write My Love Story
Seventy-seven weeks of Tuesday night writing led me back to faith and into the arms of a man who found me through my words. Sometimes God's best work happens when we're not looking.
My AWANA Leader’s Daughter Told Me to End the Volume—Well, I’m Renaming It
Deb saw me at five with her picture on my kindergarten poster. Now, decades later, she's reading my blog and suggests I close this volume. But when your vegetable garden finally starts yielding bounty, you don't stop tending it—you just change what you call it from "I Used to Be" to "I Am."
How Teaching My Students to Make Bucket Lists Saved My Own Life
Thirty-six weeks after starting this blog in crisis, I'm teaching my students to dream big and write it down. Here's what happened when writing became my way back to hope.
When God Shows Up in Grammar Lessons: Finding Faith After Heartbreak
Teaching subject-verb agreement to teenagers taught me something unexpected about the rules of love, loss, and letting God back into a guarded heart.
Plants Droop at 4 PM and Bloom at 7—Maybe We’re All Just Waiting for Water
A thousand days of silence broke six months ago when inspiration returned. Like my wilting impatiens that bounce back after watering, sometimes we're built to bloom—we just need the right conditions. My colleague says ambition left him. For me, breathing was hard enough. Until it wasn't.
Writer's Growth 