“If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to this tree, ‘be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” (Luke 17:6)


One weekend in February, my friends and I were exploring around downtown San Diego, when we randomly stumbled upon a temple in the neighborhood with a lovely view of the ocean. We explored the grounds a bit, since the actual temple was closed, taking in the ocean views and breathing salty air. Coming upon a small garden, I saw it.

Hidden among the rocks, springing up in colorful patches; the smallest succulents you ever did see. What stuck out was not only their light, minty green color, or the mandala-like shape each little plant took, but the beautiful bright pink and red flowers blooming beside it, standing out against the pile of grey stones. I admired them for a few minutes, breathless.

On the drive home, I thought about plants. By no means am I a gardener, and plants are sort of new territory for me. I thought about succulents, about little pink flowers blooming in bursts. I thought about tiny trees, tiny succulents, tinier mustard seeds…slowly taking root, beginning to grow.


This post has been a long time coming.

It’s been a while since I’ve written on this blog, and for myself  — both the 40-day Lenten challenge and Easter are long gone; safe to say I completely suck at “challenges” — and this post has just been sitting, simmering in my drafts, read through and re-written a thousand times over. I haven’t been that great at managing my personal or creative time lately. I get anxious just thinking about it. I’ve been avoiding the “publish” button for weeks. No excuses, but for good reason. Any creatives reading this will be the first to tell you, it takes true courage to put yourself out there.

Hear me out when I say this: life has been throwing me the craziest twists and turns. I took a much-needed hiatus; traveled between coasts a bit. I craved a change of scene, a serious break. I’m only human.

So what happened, girl? Where were you? In between drowning in busy-ness, 9-to-5’s and overtime, venting to friends, cleaning, packing boxes, intense networking (events involving wine and/or the world wide web), purposefully wandering, and attempting to get enough sleep. I’ve been meeting people, traveling, finding pieces of my self. I’ve been here, present. But not here.

Literally: four weeks ago my family and I moved from the home where I grew up, suddenly packed up all our things and in a matter of days had left. Personally: I took a complete risk that I know in the long run was good for my soul, and haven’t looked back since.

I’m barely starting to open up about what I’ve been going through, but truthfully, it is the most uncomfortable, restless season of my adult life. So much sudden change, big things happening and bigger life decisions to make. Sometimes I have to put a waxy, professional smile on my face and pretend like I know what I’m doing. Sometimes it feels like drowning, like being pulled in every which direction. Sometimes it feels like I’m the little, inexperienced seed among a patch of bright flowers and minty green succulents, waiting to take root and grow.

I like to think God has put me in this season because He wants me to bloom.

God is doing a lot of unexpected, nutty, insanely good changes with my life. He is uprooting me from all that I know, and out from the comfort zone. He is sending me out so that I can go be a witness, so I can live from experience, so I can stop hiding in my comfortable little box. He wants me out. He wants you out.

So here’s to faith, perseverance, and just a little bit every day… big trees didn’t grow overnight, you know?

“Bloom where you are planted.”

Keeping you close,

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