Spiritual Reflections

A Wildflower Expressions Blog There is a generation above us who carry a quiet kind of wisdom that the world seems to be losing track of. They come from a time built on calloused hands, slow mornings, and communities that leaned into one another instead of pulling apart. It was a time when hard work was not a slogan or something you admired from afar. It was a rhythm. It was a way of life. Neighbors borrowed sugar, shared milk, watched each other’s children, and trusted the p

Reconnection is a reminder that nothing true is ever lost. It may go quiet. It may rest beneath the surface for a while.

A Wildflower Expressions Blog There’s a quiet rhythm to the world, an unseen current that runs through all of us. Energy. Not the kind you can measure or calculate, but the kind you feel move through your chest, your mind, and your spirit. It flows through your thoughts. It settles into your breath. It shapes how you show up in your day. Just like water, energy moves best when it’s allowed to flow. 🌾 When Energy Gets Stuck Sometimes we get so caught up in doing everything “r

A Wildflower Expressions Reflection on Growth, Boundaries & Sacred Love There comes a moment on every woman’s journey - that quiet, trembling moment - when your heart whispers a truth you’ve been trying to ignore: “I can’t keep watering a garden that refuses to grow with me.” It’s not anger. It’s not bitterness. It’s not revenge or resentment. It’s release. It’s growth. It’s the soft, sacred knowing that your spirit has outgrown the space you’ve been squeezing yourself into.

An honest reflection on being the outsider — learning to stand firm in your purpose, embrace grace over doubt

Each phrase redirects the moment. It’s small, but it’s enough.

And when you create from the heart, something magical happens: the universe starts to move with you.

No one spoke peace into me the way you could with just one breath. I thought I’d lost you when life got heavy, but really, you were teaching me that belief isn’t built in the light — it’s built in the dark.

Dear Anxiety, We’ve been together for a long time — longer than I care to admit. You showed up uninvited and convinced me I needed you to survive. You told me if I kept worrying, I could prevent bad things from happening. If I stayed alert, I’d stay safe. If I stayed small, I wouldn’t disappoint anyone. For a while, I believed you. You were the background noise of my life — whispering what ifs into my coffee, stealing my breath at red lights, following me into grocery aisles

I forgive you for chasing approval from people who never learned how to love you without conditions. For staying too long where your light was dimmed. For all the “should have known better” moments that still echo when you close your eyes. You did the best you could with what you knew at the time.

It reminded me that doubt doesn’t cancel out faith; it gives it room to grow. Faith isn’t loud or fancy—it’s scribbled in the margins…

These wild plants, resilient and unrefined, remind me that God’s design is rarely about perfection — it’s about persistence. They don’t question the wind or fight the frost. They trust the rhythm of the Creator’s hand.

When I reached a crossroads — tired of the noise in my head, ready to stop pretending everything was fine —I turned back to something familiar: writing. Blogging became my map when I had no sense of direction.