It happened the other morning while I was scrolling through the news with my tea favorite Early Grey beside me. Another headline, another moment of questioning. The world felt unsteady again. I closed the screen, but the unease stayed. It wasn’t only fear about what might happen next; it was the ...

There are seasons when the ground beneath us shifts, and we find ourselves caught between what has ended and what hasn't yet begun. It feels like searching in the dark for a door that won't open, waiting for a light that lingers just beyond the horizon. I find that the in-between holds both longi...

I feel the seasons shifting again.Not only in the weather (Texas doesn't really have changing seasons), but in the shape of life. We've closed our house in Provence for a short season, knowing I’ll return in a few months. The shutters drawn, the garden stilled, the rooms waiting. Yet in my heart,...

There are some weeks when I wish the assignment were something easier. Something that looked more like beauty and less like breaking. You would think that I would know these things by now, at my age, but He is so kind to gently remind me, again and again. I keep coming back to this quiet convicti...

I’ve been thinking about how not all seasons are long or dramatic. Some pass quietly. Others begin without much fanfare. You look up one day, and something has shifted—but it didn’t come with a loud arrival. It just was. Traveling these past weeks has given me a little space from the usual rhythm...

Hi, Friend!There’s a quiet rhythm I’ve come to know over the years—the kind that settles in early morning, in the way watercolor spreads across my sketchbook, or in the silence between thoughts during a creative experience. It’s in those small, often overlooked moments that I sense the Lord near-...