Rooted in Grace 🌿

Some days, my mind feels like an overgrown garden—beautiful in places, but tangled with the weeds of memories I can’t seem to pull. The past has a funny way of sticking around like dandelion fluff on a breezy day; no matter how far I try to blow it away, some of it lands right back on my heart.

There are moments burned into my brain like sunlight on old film—too vivid to forget, too heavy to carry. I used to wish I could wipe them clean, start fresh, replant. But I’ve learned that even the painful days have roots that run deep with purpose. Pain is the rain that makes the wild things grow. Without it, we’d never stretch toward the light.

That’s why I’ve always felt a kinship with wildflowers. They don’t ask for perfect soil or gentle weather. They bloom wherever life drops them—on rocky ground, in ditches, between cracks where nothing else dares to grow. Their resilience whispers to me, “Grace doesn’t always look polished—it often grows from what tried to bury you.”

I’ve stopped trying to erase my memories; now, I water them with gratitude. Because every heartbreak, every misstep, every wilted season taught me something sacred about grace.

So here I am—still rooted, still learning, still growing wild in God’s garden.

Because grace, like a wildflower, doesn’t just survive the storm… it dances in the wind. 🌸