Stories That Inspire Courage, Faith and Hope
Dear Friends,
My home has grown a little fuller lately—and so has my heart.
My sister recently made a big move, leaving Lake Charles, Louisiana, to come live with me here
in Trenton, South Carolina. Anyone who has ever packed up a life knows that a move carries a
curious mixture of emotions. There is excitement about what lies ahead, but also a quiet sense of
loss for what has been left behind. Familiar streets, favorite shops, and well-worn routines all
stay rooted in the old place while we step into the unknown.
Watching my sister walk through this transition has reminded me again of the three phases of
what I often share in talks, articles, and book chapters called blooming where you're planted.
First comes the painful uprooting. Even when a move is the right decision, pulling up roots is
rarely easy. There are goodbyes to say and memories tied to every corner of the life being left
behind.
Next comes the tender season of adjustment. Like a newly transplanted flower, we need time to
settle into unfamiliar soil. The light feels different. The rhythms change. At first, everything
requires a little more patience and a lot more grace.
But eventually—almost quietly at first—something beautiful begins to happen. New friendships
form. Fresh routines take hold. Laughter returns to the rooms. And before long, what once felt
unfamiliar begins to feel like home.
Scripture reminds us of this quiet promise of flourishing:
“They are like trees planted along the riverbank, bearing fruit each season. Their leaves never
wither, and they prosper in all they do.”
—Psalm 1:3
For now, my sister and I are simply enjoying this early season together—learning new rhythms,
sharing meals, and rediscovering the gift of sisterhood under the same roof. And as I watch her
take root here in Trenton, I'm reminded again that life’s changes, though sometimes tender, often lead us exactly where we are meant to grow next.
Wherever life has planted you today, may you find the courage to take root, the patience to
adjust, and the joy that comes when new blooms begin to appear.
