And when it does, keep living. Today, artificial intelligence is changing our world at a breathtaking pace. Tomorrow it will be something else. But perhaps we give technology too much credit for introducing us to change. Life has been doing that forever. Relationships. Heartbreak. Betrayal. Disappointment. Joy. Illness. Recovery. Birth. Death. Falling in love. Falling out of love. Becoming a parent. Losing a parent. Discovering something about another person that changes ever

There is something almost magical about discovering a new artist. Lately, for me, it has been Sienna Spiro. I especially love We’re Not in Love, Butterfly Effect, CYANIDE, Dream Police, Need Me, and Time, You & Me. Perhaps I’m late to the party. Maybe everyone else has already been listening to her while I’ve been over here just now discovering that voice. But isn’t that one of the joys of music? Somehow, it has a way of finding us exactly when we’re ready for it. It was less

And what am I teaching the people I love to believe they deserve? Love has been in the air lately. I've had the joy of attending a couple of weddings, and every wedding has a way of making me thoughtful. There is something beautiful about watching two people stand before the people they love and promise to choose one another—not just on that day, but every ordinary Tuesday and every difficult season still to come. Whether those promises are made before God or simply before on

Technology has become one of the hardest-working companions in our lives. My phone navigates me across unfamiliar highways, plays my favorite podcasts, tracks my blood sugar, communicates with my insulin pump, reminds me of appointments, keeps me connected to family, captures photographs I treasure, and somehow still finds time to answer texts, emails, and phone calls. Sometimes I think we expect these little devices to be nearly perfect. The truth is, they aren’t. Like us, t

Tonight I watched my beautiful niece marry the man she loves. Their ceremony, officiated by the groom's father, was traditional, filled with Scripture, prayers, and reminders that marriage is more than a celebration. It is a covenant. A promise. A decision made over and over again, especially on the days when it isn't easy. There were passages about commitment. About forgiveness. About sacrifice. About a husband leading and protecting his family. About a wife honoring and tru

For a long time, I thought finding “the one” meant finding someone who would sweep me off my feet. Life has taught me something different. I don’t think “the one” is the person who creates butterflies every day. I think they’re the person who creates peace. They’re the person who somehow makes the world feel a little softer simply because they’re in it. Home isn’t always a place. Sometimes it’s a person. The older I get, the less impressed I am by grand gestures and perfectly

One year ago, I was saying goodbye to a relationship that had once been filled with love. We had spent two wonderful years building a life together, sharing a home and dreaming about a future. What followed was nearly another year of untangling ourselves from a heartbreak that never seemed to end all at once. Just when I felt as though I had finally found solid ground again, another little tug on my heart would pull me back into the uncertainty. Heartbreak has a funny way of

This post isn't really about heartbreak. It's about what happens when someone temporarily steals your peace—and how curiosity, wisdom, and intentional choices help you reclaim it.

The other day, I realized something that caught me completely by surprise. For years, I think I had been looking at myself through other people's eyes. Through expectations. Through disappointments. Through accomplishments. Through scars. Through the opinions of people I loved. Through the opinions of people I barely knew. Somewhere along the way, it was as though I had been walking through life without my contact lenses. When I tried to look at myself through my own eyes, ev

Pain is never the gift. The gift is discovering that even after life cracks us, we can create something beautiful enough to let the light shine through.

There’s a feeling I’ve had since returning home… and it’s a little hard to describe. It’s light… but grounded. Peaceful… but full of energy at the same time. I don’t feel rushed. I don’t feel like I’m searching. I just feel… open. And that feels different. 💛 A Quiet Shift At first, I thought maybe it was just that post-trip happiness we all feel after doing something new and beautiful. But this feels deeper than that. It feels like something inside me gently whispered: “I’m

There’s an old saying that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger , and I think many people toss that phrase around casually. But some of us… we become living proof of it. Strength isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s steady. Sometimes it’s tender. And sometimes it shines brightest when the world around us is dim. It’s easy to shine in the daylight — anyone can look bright when everything feels effortless. But shining in the dark? That takes something different. Something earn

A reflection on love, loss, clarity, and the quiet courage to begin again Sometimes healing doesn’t come with fireworks — it comes in quiet moments, like watching snow fall outside your window and noticing that your heart is finally telling you the truth. This is a story about love, loss, clarity, and the gentle courage it takes to choose yourself again… even when part of you still aches. It’s for anyone learning to let go with grace — and hold onto hope with both hands. Ther

Lately, I’ve been thinking about a recent blog post where I shared that I want to live a life that would make my eight-year-old self smile and my eighty-year-old self proud. Last night, though, something new—and deeper—settled into my heart. The life I truly want to live, the legacy I want to leave, is one that would make my fifty-year-old granddaughter smile… and feel proud. A life that shows her you can make mistakes—and start over. And start over again if you need to. Tha

by Honey There’s a show on Netflix called Soulmates . It’s built around the idea of a scientific test that can identify your one true match — your perfect person. Watching it made me wonder… if love could be proven in a lab, would that make it easier, or harder? Because even in the show, people still missed the ones they’d chosen themselves — the person their heart had already decided on before any test could. I think that’s because love isn’t math. It’s energy. It’s timing.

There’s a kind of heartbreak that doesn’t come from losing someone — it comes from realizing they never truly showed up for you in the first place. It’s the moment you see, with crystal clarity, that love isn’t supposed to make you feel small. It’s not supposed to make you hide your joy, silence your voice, or rearrange your life around someone who refuses to even slightly bend for you. Love — real love — doesn’t hide. It celebrates. When someone consistently proves that you’

True love always finds its way home. Even after the quiet seasons, it remembers. It returns — not as it was, but as it’s meant to be — tender, steady, and new. Real love — the kind that’s meant to last — isn’t a fairytale or a fleeting spark. It’s the kind that deepens over time, that weathers change and still chooses tenderness. It’s not perfect, and it’s not without its growing pains. But when it’s real, it’s worth every ounce of care you pour into it. The right partner wil

(A reflection on loss, love, and the gift of life) The night before my brother died, I wrote about how beautiful and fragile life is. I didn’t know it then, but my heart was writing me a message for the days that would follow.” 🌿 A reflection on loss, faith, and the quiet grace of continuing to choose joy. On April 21, 2023, I wrote a piece that began, “Life is messy — oh, but God, it’s beautiful.” I didn’t know it then, but I was writing to my own soul. The very next morn

When you finally look back with clear eyes and see that someone’s choices were shaped by their own mental and emotional struggles, compassion begins to grow where anger once lived. It becomes easier to forgive when you understand that what you experienced wasn’t always intentional cruelty, but rather the product of someone who was never able to meet life as it is — right here, right now. Some people live suspended in the past. They scroll through old photos daily, reliving mo

Some songs don’t just play — they linger. They hum softly in the background of your heart, looping through the quiet moments until you finally stop resisting and let the truth wash over you. For me lately, that song has been Now and Then by The Beatles. “And if we must start again, well, we will know for sure…” That line always catches me — because I did start again. With him. And I was sure. Sure that I loved him, sure that what we had mattered, sure that love would be enou