growth – Long walks and dark chocolate

There is something both familiar and entirely new about finishing a book.

I remember the first time, the mix of excitement, uncertainty, and the quiet question in the back of my mind: Will this matter to anyone else the way it matters to me? And now, here I am again, holding something that began as scattered thoughts, quiet reflections, and moments I didn’t want to forget.

Seasons of Grace is my second book, but in many ways, it feels like the continuation of something I have been writing all along..

If you’ve spent any time here with me, you’ve already seen pieces of it.

This book is made up of those same kinds of moments; the ordinary days, the lessons learned slowly, the reminders that seem to come just when I need them most. It’s about faith, family, growing older, letting go, holding on, and learning to recognize that even the quiet seasons are full of purpose.

Some of these pages were written years ago. Others came together more recently. All of them carry something I have needed to be reminded of — that God is present in every season, even the ones we wouldn’t have chosen.

Finishing this book has felt less like reaching an end and more like gently gathering pieces of a journey and placing them together in one place.

And if I’ve learned anything through both books, it’s this:

Sometimes the most important thing we can do is simply finish what has been placed on our hearts.

If you choose to read Seasons of Grace, I hope you find something that meets you right where you are. Something that encourages you to slow down, to notice, and to trust that even now, something meaningful is still growing.

Thank you for being here — for reading, for encouraging, and for walking alongside me in this space for so long.

With gratitude,
Lisa

PS It’s available on Amazon in Kindle version; soft and hard cover coming soon!

Killing Orchids

My thumb is not a nice dark green. I suppose it’s more of a seafoam or chartreuse color. What I am trying to say is that I seem to have about a 60/40 chance of growing beautiful things. Many of my plants do indeed thrive. They have deep, robust color and if a bloomer, they have plentiful and hearty offerings.

Then there are those that start off with a bang, bring me viewing pleasure for months and then die a slow and pitiful death right before my eyes. Others limp along, making little progress only to become diseased.

In the past I attempted to grow orchids. My sister does a great job with them and hers always look beautiful. My friend, Rudy has several that thrive. She shows pictures of them on Facebook and I gaze in wonder at their beauty. One of my uncles used to have many different varieties and he also seemed to believe they were not hard to grow successfully.

I have brought several of them home with high hopes and visions of grandeur, imagining an entire shelf popping with several blooms in every shade of color in various heights. I have cringed as I watched one after another succumb to my inefficient treatment (and they aren’t cheap!). Much to my dismay, I’ve never seen one last for more than a month or so. Yes, I have read about the lighting, fertilization and watering and I have also solicited advice from the above mentioned orchid hall of famers. All to no avail I might add.

Then, I read something the other day. It was about how when the bloom falls off; you can cut the stem a little below the bloom and wait. Often, although it can take a long time, your orchid will bloom again. No one told me this. I always thought that once that flower was gone, it was as good as dead. Now I learn that as long as my leaves still have some life to them, it is very possible that my orchid will rise again to its former splendor. I just needed to wait! Isn’t the waiting always the hardest part? I’m sure some of you are laughing at my ignorance right now and I can’t say that I blame you.

So, I considered my hydrangea which is my favorite flower ever and not the easiest to grow this far south (at least not for me). All the leaves had fallen off. I could barely remember the last flower. But, I haven’t had much time for yard work lately so I hadn’t dug it up yet. I went out and took a peek and lo and behold, there are several green leaves gracing that once barren little collection of sticks. Therefore, I will wait.

In life, one of the things we have the hardest time with is waiting. We wait for the phone to ring, we wait for the water to boil, and we wait in line. We wait for the answer to that prayer. We hear, “good things come to those who wait”, extolling the virtue of patience. And in our exasperation, we throw out the orchid, we dig up the hydrangea and we avoid the plant aisle for fear of another failure.

I have learned today in my mediation on this topic and my prayer is that you have too. We will have to wait for the fruition of good things. We might have to look at an ugly barren stem for a while before we realize the beauty. May we be more patient with things, but more importantly with people. Let’s set our sights on the coming growth and glorious blooms instead of the dead branches of the now. I want to see what God see’s when He looks at me; His plan and the possibilities.