There’s something about fall that feels like an exhale. The trees, dressed in their fiery reds and golden yellows, seem to remind us that change can be breathtakingly beautiful. The air carries that familiar crispness—the kind that makes you reach for your coziest sweater and wrap your hands around a warm mug of tea. It’s a season that invites us to slow down, breathe deep, and remember the steady rhythms of grace woven through our days.
As the wind stirs the leaves and sends them tumbling across the grass, I can’t help but think how life, too, has its gusts—those moments that unsettle and shift what we thought was firmly rooted. But even in the swirl of uncertainty, God’s love remains constant. Just as the trees never question whether spring will come again, we don’t have to question His faithfulness.
Here’s the thing: sometimes we forget that we are fully known and deeply loved. We rush, we worry, we compare. We let the noise of life drown out the gentle whisper that says, “You are mine.” But fall has a way of quieting the noise. Of pulling us back to center. Of reminding us that even as the world changes around us, His love does not.
Maybe this season is your invitation to pause—to take a walk beneath the canopy of color, to let the wind brush against your cheeks, to sip your tea slowly and let gratitude rise. To let yourself remember that you are seen, held, and cherished by the One who paints the sky at dusk.
So as the leaves fall and the air grows cooler, lean in. Let this season wrap around you like your favorite blanket and remind you: you don’t have to have it all together. You just have to rest in the One who does.
Because even when life feels like it’s changing colors again, you are still loved—fully, completely, endlessly.
You chart the path ahead of me and tell me where to stop and rest. Every moment you know where I am. - Psalm 139:3
Today is National Sons Day, and my heart can’t help but reflect on the incredible gift God gave me in each of my boys. Being their mom has been, and always will be, one of the greatest honors of my life.
Here’s the thing—life doesn’t always look the way we dreamed it would. As our sons grow into adults, relationships sometimes shift in ways we never expected. For some, the closeness you long for may not be there right now. For others, the bond may look different than it once did. And that can be heartbreaking.
But no matter what the present holds, nothing can erase the beauty of the memories you’ve shared—the first time you held them, the sound of their laughter, the milestones you celebrated together. Those moments are forever etched into your heart, untouchable and sacred.
To every mom who aches for a different kind of relationship with her son today, please hear this: your role as his mother will always matter. Your love leaves a mark that cannot be undone. Keep praying, keep trusting, and keep holding onto hope. Because we serve a God who specializes in restoration. He has the power to redeem what feels broken and breathe life into what seems lost.
And to those sons who have chosen to stay—who show up, call, visit, or simply make room in their busy adult lives for their mom—you are a treasure beyond words. Your presence is a gift, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Today, I honor both the ache and the joy: the hope I carry for restoration and the gratitude I hold for the love that remains steady.
Happy National Sons Day, sweet friends. May your heart be filled with both gratitude for what has been and hope for what is yet to come.
Did you ever find yourself doing something you never thought you’d do? Well, the other day, that was me - I was darning socks. Yes, actual darning, needle in hand, patching tiny holes in the toes of my husband’s work socks. It all started when I noticed that several pairs had little holes in the same spot. When I asked him about it, he shrugged and said, “It’s the steel-tipped boots.”
Now, the practical side of me thought, well, they’re practically new otherwise—why toss them? So, I sat down to fix them. As I stitched, I couldn’t help but laugh and think, “This is exactly what my grandmother used to do” ... and I thought she was crazy. There I was, just like her in that small, unexpected way.
But as I sat there, it struck me how much life mirrors this simple act. Little holes don’t look like much at first. They’re easy to ignore. But if left alone, they spread until the whole sock is ruined. Isn’t that how so many things in our lives work? A strained relationship, a nagging thought, an unhealthy habit—small issues that seem harmless until suddenly they’ve unraveled into something much bigger.
It made me ask myself: How many “socks” in my own life am I letting fall apart because I don’t take the time to repair the little holes?
The truth is, it’s easier to toss things aside—to give up when something feels broken. But often, there’s still plenty of strength and beauty left if we’re willing to sit down, acknowledge the problem, and do the slow, sometimes tedious work of mending.
Of course, not everything can or should be saved. Some things truly need to be let go. But so often, what looks like a ruined situation really just needs a bit of attention, a willingness to patch the hole before it spreads. Relationships can be healed. Habits can be reshaped. Hope can be restored.
And even when something feels too far gone, I believe there’s still a way forward. The sock may never look brand new, but it can still be worn, still be useful, still have purpose.
That morning with the needle and thread reminded me of something I want to share with you: don’t wait until the damage is too great. Tend to the little holes now, and when the big ones come, remember—there’s always a way to stitch things back together. You just have to be willing to pick up the needle.
I know I’m not the only one who has walked through seasons of heartbreak, uncertainty, and those moments where you wonder if life will ever feel steady again. Over the years, I’ve faced my own share of struggles—things that shook my sense of worth and left me questioning my place in the world. Maybe you’ve been there too.
The thing is, I’m not writing this as someone who has it all figured out. I don’t believe in pretending to have mastered every lesson life throws at us. But I have made it through the thick of some very hard things. I’ve discovered that even while carrying scars, it’s possible to live with joy, to build purpose into everyday life, and to wake up with hope—even if circumstances haven’t magically “fixed” themselves.
For me, it’s been a journey of learning how to move forward while still honoring the past. I’m still a work in progress (aren’t we all?), but I’ve found that on the other side of pain, there can be growth, freedom, and even a new kind of strength you didn’t know you had. And that’s why I’m stepping into this new chapter—because I want to encourage others who feel stuck in the messy middle of their story.
This blog is the beginning of something bigger for me. It’s not just about sharing my thoughts—it’s about creating a space where you and I can connect, where I can offer encouragement, tools, and even a little laughter along the way. You’ll see me talk about the things I’ve learned, the things I’m still learning, and the things I wish someone had told me sooner.
Alongside this space, I’ve written and continue to write books and journals that have grown out of my own journey. They’re for anyone who longs to heal, reflect, or simply find a bit of hope in the everyday. And as a coach, I’m here for those who want a more personal journey—someone to walk alongside as you discover joy and purpose again.
If you’ve found yourself nodding along, know this: you’re not alone. My hope is that this is a place where you can feel seen, encouraged, and maybe even inspired to take your own next brave step.
“Don’t be dejected and sad, for the joy of the Lord is your strength!”
-Nehemiah 8:10
