SCS Designs Co. – Handcrafted Art & Creative Journey – "Learning to Trust the Creative Process: A Self-Taught Artist's Perspective"

You Are Not Too Much, You Are Not Behind

July 12, 2026
You are not too much, and you are not behind.

You are not too silly, too sensitive, too anything.

You are perfectly you—not too much or too little—because you are “just right.”

When “too much” turns into “not enough”

I’m taking time today to reflect on the last month (and honestly, the last quarter) and map out my next round of goals. Lately I’ve been watching videos about minimalism, financial freedom, living with intention, and simplifying life.

And I can say this with my whole chest: reducing the “noise” in my life—the stuff I’m exposed to that quietly ramps up my stress—is my top goal right now.

One of the YouTubers I’ve been watching is Gabe Bult. He shares a lot about how he reached financial freedom by age 24—building income streams that keep going while he travels, saving over $100,000, and working fewer hours doing what he loves. And he did it while cleaning offices for minimum wage.

No “get rich quick” scheme. No lucky stock market break. No inheritance.

Just consistency, specific habits, and side hustle ideas that were scalable.

(That’s a very rough summary—seriously, go check out his content on YouTube.)

Watching content like that has been messing with my assumptions about spending, consumerism, and what’s actually possible. It got me asking:
- What am I good at?
- What skills do I have that other people could benefit from?
And while I was working through those questions (and, naturally, sprinting off on an inspiration tangent), I realized something that stopped me in my tracks.

Every time I consider doing something outside the box—something truly different—I immediately label myself as “too” something.

Too slow. Too scattered. Too quick to lose interest. Too obsessive. Too inexperienced. Too crazy.

If I’m being honest, it all boils down to this: I’m “too much me.”

And that is one of the biggest lies I feed myself.

Maybe you do it too.

The moment the script started to change

If you’re anything like me, you’ll get an idea that lights you up. Your brain kicks into a higher gear, almost like it’s racing ahead of you.

Then the “ah ha!” fades… and the follow-up line shows up:

“That’s too crazy.”

“I’ll never be able to do it because…”

Sometimes we convert being “too” whatever into us “not being enough.”

Not smart enough. Not funny enough. Not interesting enough. Not confident enough.

It’s exhausting.

Today, I was thinking about side hustle questions again: What am I good at? What skills do I have that others can benefit from?

My brain snagged on a creative idea and I started thinking about my own YouTube channel.

And then—like clockwork—this thought popped up:

“I’m not good enough at making content. No one will watch. I’m too boring. People can find something better.”

Full face palm.

Why do we do this to ourselves?

Why do we keep following a pattern that shrinks us—and why do we trust a voice that has been lying to us for so long that we don’t even question it?

Today was different. The words felt wrong—like sandpaper on skin.

So why was today any different than all the other times?

I think it’s because I’ve been feeding my mind differently.

What’s helping me push back against the lie

Yes, I mentioned Gabe Bult—but I’ve also subscribed to other channels that focus on habits I genuinely want to build.

And filling my mind with that kind of content has made me start questioning the old script.

I’ve been retraining my thoughts to disagree with what I would normally say to myself.

Some of it is probably age—coming to the end of my 30s changes you.

But a big part of it is also being fed up with regret… and being tired of telling myself “one day” about things that aren’t guaranteed.

I’ve also noticed this: when I’m surrounded by a supportive community, the things that normally make me anxious don’t feel as scary or impossible.

Sharing my authentic self with people who are genuine and transparent is way more fulfilling than trying to impress a world that rewards burnout, unhealthy habits, and constant masking.

If you’re reading this and it’s connecting with something in you, here are a few things that have helped me lately.

Seven reminders that help when your brain gets loud

1) Feed your brain good “food”

We’ve heard it before: you get what you put in.

Feed your mind content that builds you up and encourages you. Sometimes it’s not that the idea is new—it’s that someone explains it in a way that finally clicks for you.

2) Slowing down and resting is not failure

Rest, quiet reflection, and slowing down make a huge difference.

You start responding from calm instead of exhaustion. And you give your mind the space it needs to think clearly.

3) Brain dump when you feel overloaded

One of the best ways I’ve learned to reduce anxiety is to get the spinning thoughts out.

Journal. Record a voice memo. Talk it out with a friend.

I like prayer journaling—it feels like a direct conversation with God. Whatever your method is, dumping it out of your head can relieve stress, bring clarity, and even help you sleep.

4) Talk to someone you trust for an outside perspective

When you can’t shake the inner voice, borrow someone else’s perspective.

We’re usually harsher on ourselves than we’d ever be to someone we love. Ask your person: If you heard me say this about someone else, would you agree with it?

5) Perfection is unobtainable—done is better than perfect

Sometimes I have to repeat this like a mantra.

Whether it’s idea-swimming, procrastinating, or avoiding something I’ve labeled “too hard,” I remind myself: done is better than perfect.

People won’t remember whether your list was chicken-scratched or written in perfect handwriting. They’ll remember whether you followed through.

(Obviously, accuracy matters when it matters—but perfectionism in the small stuff is a thief.)

6) Eat the frog

This should probably be higher on the list because it’s helped me for years.

Eat the frog = do the hardest or most unpleasant thing first.

It builds momentum. If you can do the thing you were dreading, everything else feels lighter.

7) Talk to yourself out loud

It hits different when you speak words into the world instead of letting them spin around in your head.

When I verbalize what I’m thinking, I’m forced to slow down and focus—like I’m having a conversation. And when I’m still cycling, I repeat truths I know about myself until they feel louder than the noise.

A final note about prayer

Beyond all of this, prayer is a huge component for me.

Like I mentioned with prayer journaling, I treat it like I’m chatting with Jesus.

Sometimes I have to remind myself I don’t need big words or perfect phrasing—He already knows what’s on my heart before the words leave my mouth.

That makes it easier to take the mask off.

I can be messy. I can admit where I feel like I’m falling short. I don’t have to filter out the parts I worry people might misunderstand.

God isn’t fooled by the polished version of me.

He gets it—100%.

You are enough

Friend, I hope you’ll pause and notice the script you’ve been reading to yourself.

Notice the places where you shrink, where you speak harshly, where you assume you’re “too much” or “not enough.”

Whatever hurt you, whatever shaped that belief, I pray you’ll feel the Spirit working in those shadowed places—letting light in.

You are enough.

You are just right.
Garden Updates: One Month and Signs of Growth! (June 2026 Recap)

July 1, 2026

The new garden space is coming along, and in only one month there has been so much change!

An overview of the garden as of the end of June 2026 – lots more to see compared to May

A quick recap of the progress for this area. I started with covering this section of grass in our front yard with cardboard. After layering this and soaking it, I added mulch to the top and set down cinder blocks to outline my garden bed areas. I also placed metal raised bed frames that I had in the large rectangular sizing. (The three round beds have still not been secured in their final spot yet.)

I started with one of the rectangle beds, adding in compost and top soil. I didn’t have more patience to wait for all the beds to be done before getting started. The first plant in my space was a raspberry bush. I added an extra one and then continued to fill the space with alyssium, purple Jew, and other purple perennial, Russian sage, and some different tones of succulent greens and Coleus.

After my surgery on April 22, the garden had to sit for a bit. I was under orders of no lifting more than 15 lbs and “plenty” of bed rest. I continued to dream and imagine the space taking shape and bought a few things to help, including the blue picnic table that J put together for me. 💙

I later bribed A to help me wrap up the last parts of the garden – namely, placing the last few cinder blocks for the garden bed perimeters and filling each of the spots in with compost, sand, and top soil. Lucky kiddo – J offered to help her wrap up the end part of the project so she didn’t have to lift 40 lb bags by herself.

My delivery had both J and A shaking their heads – I’d say 33% of the soil and compost was moved by me, but 80% of the mulch and 60% of the cinder blocks were transferred by yours truly before I was on restrictions. They fussed, but at least they could tag-team. Mine was all solo, baby! 💪😜

J and A knocked out the last parts of placing materials and J tilled the sand/manure-compost/ top soil so I had fluffy material to start with. I quickly filled the spaces with a variety of things, bringing the space to the “hurry and wait” stage by the end of May 2026.

For June, I continued to water regularly and weed (since my cardboard barrier was thin in several spots). It’s given me a reason to be outside for natural doses of sun and helps me feel fulfilled in the sense that I’m being a good steward with what I’ve created for both visual/natural appeal and plants being grown to feed my family and community.

The cinder block bed is home to two cherry tomato plants, as well as some onion starters. Sprinkled through the rest are herbs (basil, Roman camomile, oregano, parsley), marigolds, and lettuce variety.

I divided the areas into my own categories, with some of the beds having mature starters and others being only seedlings. I also mixed varieties of sun catching blooms with edible components. Basil, which I can propagate like a weed, has been the threaded theme in nearly every bed. I also have zinnias and sunflowers dispersed to give a consistent flow between a couple beds, too.

Trumpet vine cuttings were added into the far edge of the vegetable/herb raised bed to mirror another rooted addition in my first bed I created. To my delight, they’ve kicked out shoots of green and will hopefully continue to produce foliage and eventually build into a full vining system. I have a trellis tucked away that will bridge the two beds on the side sections near the vines for these growers to attach to.

My last exploration at the garden center at the beginning of June was for some climbing plants. I’ve had some narrow wooden shutter doors I procured in Fredericksburg around Christmas that have been waiting for a home. I decided I would prime and paint them in bold colors of Sonic Purple and Golden Orange (which reads as a deep, tawny yellow). The contrasting flowering vines I found to grow next to them will provide some privacy from the road view into the garden, while still giving it an open, inviting vibe. At least, that’s the plan. 😅

Next to the purple shutters will be ‘Juiced Orange’ jassmine (like a dreamsickle shade, and yes – that’s the spelling for this variety) and next to the yellow shutters will be the alien-shaped blooms of purple passion flowers. I also snagged a shrub-style peony in a fuchsia coloring to add as another anchor point. This will close out the raised bed circles I was trying to find homes for and give some height to the space and places to draw the eye around the garden.

With a flash spring sale at Hobby Lobby toward the middle of June and some thrifting trips, I had several accents of ceramic, glass, and metal art to add into the different beds. I also found new homes for some of our own yard ornaments. With a new temperature gauge and wind-catcher pinwheel piece, there’s lots of different elements tied all together.

A gift from a new friend – basil is prominent in several parts of the garden.

One of several thrift finds, this metal frame with metal flowers has morning glory slowly twining along the bottom before they start to earnestly climb this piece as a trellis and bridge to the main wall segment.

While my large trellis section has had its own challenges, I love how healthy the vines are and the cleaned up look of it. I had cleared out most of the deadened bits during the winter to give it a clear start this spring for continuing to expand.

Outside the barrier, more cardboard or weed barrier and then local stone and boulders found along our country roads will be included to add visual interest. Then I’ll transfer some succulent varieties I’m growing inside the house into the craggles of space between the rocks.

This vine has been building up over the last 5 years. The bed section has always been a challenge of what to do with the space since it attracts grass like no other. I think I’ve settled on cardboard to suppress most (but hopefully all!) of the grass inside the cinder blocks.

Hibiscus started from seed – we’ll see what surprise color we get. Also some Lazy Susans nestled in, but it looks like only one has decided to show itself.

It’s amazing when I look back at where I started for how far this space has come.

February/March 2026: marked off the edges of the space and started filling it in with cardboard for grass suppressing.

June 2026: current view today of 5 main garden beds, a picnic seating area, and still more works in progress.

I’m pleased with the progress so far. I’m also at a spot where I think it’s time to let the space rest from new additions after these shrubs/vines are settled in with the new painted shutter structures for trellising.

As the weeks eventually cool back off, I’ll have regrouped with some of my other project ideas and will be ready to start the next phase by cleaning up the large trellis bed, adding the succulents/rocks, and hopefully (before winter) wrapping up my cold frame beds – the windows I have set aside for these have been waiting patiently for me to clear the evergreen bushes the rest of the way out next to the house so they have a place to call home.

What started as a dream for a spot to call “my garden” at home has evolved into a greater vision that will carry the next several years.

I’m also being mindful of my pace and continually praying and checking in with myself – it would be so easy to rush the next steps just so I can be done.

In the end, though, I would be the one losing out on some of the greatest gifts God has to offer if I rush things: rest, recuperation, joy, wonder, and awe. Seeing each new addition fold into the whole picture has answered my creative curiosity, while seeing the new sprouts and watching each stage of their growth has given me pause moments with God, where the Spirit helps enlighten me with insights into patience, gentleness, self-control, and remaining a faithful steward of this gift God has for us.
Art, Creative Updates, and Deep Thoughts

June 29, 2026

Seasons come and go, along with what inspires. And then you come back round to something you thought you’d let go of.

Hang in there with me on this post — it’s a bit of a jump between topics, but will wrap up into some things I think others can relate with, too.

Birthday gift for family – this gnome was a freehand drawing. Not bad for a first try! 😊

Creativity comes in waves, and it’s usually when my brain gets noisy that I have the hardest time making anything.

So I’ve basically let my instinct dictate what’s being done next. When the push to create is strong enough that I can see the entirety of a piece from start to finish and I can’t stop thinking about it, that’s the one I work on. It’s an interesting mix of satisfying the curiosity and taming the obsession.

A little cutie to share with coworkers for Cinco de Mayo – not even two weeks into recovery and I was missing everyone.

Little reminders and fun ways to encourage – these mini paintings are a silly (but cute!) way to show appreciation

You never know what’s going to be the next inspiration. Right now, it’s been a dabbling of crochet (4 projects started to rotate through), trying to wrap up a devotional for Amazon KDP that I started in Fall 2025, and then creatively organizing things at home. I’ve also fired up several ideas from brainstorming lists over the last year that I hope to start (and complete) in the next few months.

I didn’t expect healing to be spiritual work too, but it’s been exactly that — God using the quiet to show me what I’ve been carrying.

While home recovering from surgery, I’ve had little choice but to settle down with the “noise” and filter through it. I’ve learned I am not patient with myself and that I hold unreasonable expectations of what my body can and should be able to do while healing. I’ve felt muscles retaliate when doing some of the most basic things, like standing for longer than 15 minutes or putting a small bit of laundry away.

I’ve also had time for quiet with Bible study and a general deep dive on YouTube for anything that’s struck my fancy. The self reflection has brought both restless discomfort and peaceful enlightenment — all good signs of learning and growing. I’ve gained a new appreciation for different cultures I’ve researched, and found some ideas I want to incorporate into daily life. I’ve also found content that really resonated about pattern weaving, a trait that aligns with being a “jack of all trades” and finding strings to bind together between the different topics — creating bridges between concepts that are not normally connected. (Think Steve Jobs with Apple and his calligraphy course – check it out to see what I mean.)

That’s what this post is, honestly — me noticing the threads between art, rest, faith, and the way I measure my worth.

It’s definitely been a wake-up call the last several weeks. From physical and mental health, to general daily habits and filling in time with productive activities, I have a small taste of what one day may look like when I retire. And I’m a little worried.

I’ve realized that I think about work a lot, while also lumping art into it as a task to accomplish. It’s like taking a ‘job’ I’m given and making it the primary focus — all energy goes into it first, and everything else filters in after. And the ‘everything else’ includes family schedules, general tasks at home, creativity for the joy of it, and personal interests.

In short, I’ve realized I essentially ‘live to work’. And I’m disappointed in myself.

As soon as my surgery was done and I realized the full scope of the healing process and having to “slow down”, I think I lost myself a little. I really didn’t know what to do with being at home that long and not having a ‘job’ to do, aside from rest and focusing on healing. And wow — that in itself was something I really had to wrap my brain around.

And honestly, I still am. Is this really where I’m at — still chasing the hustle, not able to pause and just be in the moment, anxious for the next ‘to-do’ to be crossed off the list?

Ha — the “to-do list”. My perfectionist side is still trying to clear the slate; it’s like it’s ingrained that I need everything off and a giant checkmark to say “It’s done ✅”. But that’s not how things work as you get older, I guess.

It’s been a learning curve to have the realization that “slowing down” includes not checking everything off, and in fact being ok with stuff hanging out on a constant list. Marking something off is good, but I’ll probably never see the ‘end’ of this list. It will just continue to evolve and build, because at the end of the day, it’s just me pushing that the list is done.

No one else — just me.

Why would I want to make myself crazy over this?

So, healing has come with several benefits. The reduction of tasks has meant I’m left with my thoughts a lot more, as well as the flip-flop of my sleep schedule. So in the quiet hours of the night, I have plenty of time to evaluate what’s been happening and where I want to go in the future.

The biggest challenge was cutting off the negative self-talk surrounding my perfectionism and imposter syndrome. At the end of the day, I work with an amazing group of people who are not afraid to tell me like it is when I fall short on things. So if they’re not saying something, why am I adding words for them on how I’m doing and how tasks are being completed.

Then I started thinking about home, and the goals I keep putting to “someday”. Maybe — just maybe — it is ok to not rush around, and not feel I have to accomplish ridiculous amounts of things to be of worth.

And there it is — “of worth”. I still fear not being enough, but I should and do know better. My focus has veered from where it’s supposed to be; my eyes have not been set on Jesus. Through him, I am always — and have always been — enough.

It’s me that makes it about not being more than what I am, and this medical break has made it glaringly obvious that this unachievable standard does nothing but make me sick.

Do you feel the same way?

Have you had these kinds of thoughts and revelations revealed to you?

I know I’m not alone, because I see the understanding when I share these things with others. But how often do we put a name to that restless urgency? How often do we name the shadow hovering over our thoughts?

Call it what you will, but these things for me crop up just as I seem to be making headway with living into God’s plan and surrendering to him. I get yanked right back in the whirlwind, or in some cases, just saunter back into on my own — always feeling confident I can balance it all and not get carried adrift. You’d think years of doing this dance would have taught me by now. 😂

And that’s the heart of it. I have to consciously surrender over and over again, because it’s way too easy to go back to what leaves me feeling drained, lost, and chaotic.

I’m glad our God is one of love, grace, and mercy. And I’m glad that each day I can work a little closer to being closer to Jesus and surrendering to becoming more like him in thought, word, and deed.

I wrote this entry on May 31, 2026. The following week, I had my final follow-up for surgery and received a full release. I returned to work at the church on June 7, 2026. And looking back on this now (June 29, 2026), it still resonates with me.

So here’s the real-life update: I didn’t magically become a calm, slow-living person overnight — but I did learn how to notice the whirlwind sooner.

I went back with the intention to keep the calm I discovered somewhere during week 5 of my recovery. I did a lot of journaling on how I could structure my day to accomplish tasks without suddenly getting lost in a fog from overload, and I promised I would leave room in my schedule for time with God and the projects that tap into my creative passions and garden vision.

I can say it’s been mixed results.

I’ve managed to accomplish several things by splitting out my ‘must do’ from the ‘should do’. I moved everything not immediately necessary out of my office and am leaving the space open. While some have said it’s ’empty’, I feel the calm. I have lots of color on my walls from paintings I’ve made over the years, which makes the room still feel filled with presence — otherwise, it’s reducing the mental load and giving me one less thing for my brain to snag on outside of where I want to be focused.

On the other side, I’ve started filling in my schedule again. And sometimes I don’t even realize I’ve added more until that discomfort hits.

When I take a moment to reflect, I realize these things slowly crept in. A social gathering here, a bible study that sounds interesting, a commitment I want to keep for visiting and staying connected with family, a work team-building day, a musical Jay and I bought tickets for months ago is coming up in the next month… it goes on from there and I can see the time I have in quiet reflection and with my projects at home dwindling.

But at the end of the day, I still feel accomplished. I’ve seen the pattern and know how to downshift from it now, rather than after I feel lost in the whirlwind. I can still schedule in time for my own pursuits and hold them like important appointments with myself. It’s the fact that I caught it early that I’m proud of, as well as the fact that I don’t feel beholden to maintaining these expectations of others. It’s ok to say I’m at capacity – I am allowed to say no.

It’s growth. Around week 5, it felt like everything just suddenly seemed inconsequential to worry and rush around for. I continue to pray for God to give me guidance in how to build in pockets of time to spend with him, even if it’s just 5-10 minute windows. And I continue to ask for the peace that comes from emptying out the things that no longer serve who I am today or the direction I want to grow in.

So that’s where I’m at: still learning, still surrendering, still catching myself when I start living to work and calling it “being responsible.”

If you’re feeling that restless urgency too, take 5 minutes today. Close your eyes. Breathe.

Let it be enough. Let you be enough. And let God meet you in the quiet.
Garden Lessons that Bring Healing Reminders

May 25, 2026

Closer to the garden I’ve been dreaming about – and this is the most crucial part of being consistent and patient.

First large bed completed – hubby tilled it after filling them so the mix was consistent and fluffy.

My initial progress was slowed as I prepared for and then had surgery – but my family split a few tasks over the last week so that I had something to bring me outside. So now the plants that were set to the side are nestled in their homes, seed has been scattered, and these tiny hopes are being prayed over – prayers that they will thrive and set deep roots for the dreams of flowers, herbs, and vegetables to be made real.

I’ve learned that while I have patience for some things and for other people, I don’t have any with myself. I’ve spent 4 weeks fussing about the healing process from a hysterectomy, initially very stubborn I would be back sooner than the full 6 weeks (ha!), but then being very frustrated and negative with the amount of healing I had to do – honestly not understanding the full scope of how tired and weak I would feel. This last week has been especially hard where I basically tucked into myself and felt a constant low.

But then my garden space was worked on, and now I remember my brainstorming for this project. I reflect on the inspiration of wanting something that wouldn’t be an “instantly done” type project, hoping it would encourage me to slow down and really be present in the beautiful lessons God teaches us through the growing process of gardening.

Most of the raised beds are set for this year, with a few carryover ones remaining.

I don’t think it’s coincidental that I ended up having a ‘full-stop’ on activity. I was toeing around my outside project because of how quick it wore me out, chasing several responsibilities, and packing anything and everything into my schedule. I wasn’t taking time before surgery to be kind to a body that was trying to keep up with several health issues. I was also ignoring my need for connection to God beyond the general tasks built into work and time at church on Sundays.

I realize these first four weeks have been more of a deep detox from the busy and convenient, and this low I’ve felt comes from letting go of things that no longer serve a purpose, missing friends, worrying about things I have literally no control over, and guilt of giving myself false promises. But it also comes with the reminder of setting my own roots deep in the healing lessons Jesus taught us to be more like Him, taking in the essentials we know are good for our health (like daily light from outside), and that true growth (and healing) takes consistency and time.

Now we wait for the plants to start taking off – prayers these sprouts push through! 💙

Here’s to growing where we’re planted and always seeking the sunshine. 🫶

Grace and peace,

Sam

#faith #reflect #garden #lifelessonslearned
The Ugly Stage of Creating Something New

March 22, 2026

I bet you’ve been in my shoes at some point in your life — seeing in your mind what you have planned for a project, but everyone around you can’t picture it or get stuck on what it looks like right now. You know, the ugly stage of a project… the part of the process where even you are asking yourself, is this really going to work out the way I had planned? What if I forgot something? But, stay the course — good things will come if you can ride out this part of the project and get to the other side.

Since my January update, I’ve been between things for family, medical, and work. Several of the projects I rattled off in my year-list seem more like a ‘some day’ type of dream, but not the garden. I’ve been picturing it in my mind, daydreaming over logistics of how to tackle the whole thing, using small breaks to research and just absorb what others have done to create a cottage garden.

I started with collecting cardboard — my family is super patient with me, knowing I had a reason for hoarding all the boxes that came in from shipments, groceries, and even some given to me by friends and work. I was just waiting for the right time to start the process, which finally came toward the end of February.

Since then, we’ve been hanging out in the very ugly stage of what I have planned. I honestly worried my neighbors would tell the city I’d started adding trash to my front yard. But, I kept plugging away and it’s finally starting to take shape that others can see the essence of what I’m working toward.

It’s taken a month to get it to this point. I have to take things slow so that I don’t wear myself out. But even with working slowly, the progress is happening.

I know I’ve written about it before — the inner tension that seems to poke at me. Hurry up! Don’t wait too long. Why not just get it all done in one day? My mind runs this kind of dialogue because I’m still caught up in the expectations of a world that thinks ‘time is money’ or that hustle is a badge of honor even when it’s twisting you from the inside out.

I’ve found myself in these moments plopping down where I am. Yep – right in the middle of the cardboard, mulch, or whatever else I’m doing right then. And while I sit and take deep breaths, I lean into my connect with God:

Jesus, take these lies away. Help quiet my heart and protect my mind. Remind me that I am not here to perform, but to embrace this gift of creating with my hands, nurturing seeds into blooms, and releasing my worries and fears to you while I do. I am not held back by my current limitations – You give me strength to complete what I can a bit at a time. There is no deadline.

These quiet garden moments are my way of taking back a piece of myself against chronic pain. Even if I have to go slow, I make a little more progress each time. It might be one bag of mulch, or it might be twenty on a good day. It may be just watching the sun stretch over the space and planning the placement for plants where they will thrive the most. Asking for help and spending time with someone else, giving them insight into my vision. It’s seeing the space evolve over time.

The biggest part, though, is knowing that there is never a deadline because there’s never an end. Each season will flow into the next, the plants will grow and wither, and new growth will rise from the aged stalks to bring forth new life.

So why rush?

Why the hurry?

Why get in a tizzy to have something finished all in one weekend, but then feel it for the next three weeks?

It’s not necessary for me or you to break ourselves just to feel like we’ve proven our worth or that our contribution is just as good as everyone else’s. We are not less, even in these seasons of healing.

It’s time to focus on Jesus’ quiet whisper to find rest and peace, rather than accept the world’s loud trumpeting for instant gratification.

It’s time to stay the course and embrace the small nuances of letting our senses be open: the pungent weight and texture of soil in your hands, the breeze dancing and twirling wood chips into the air, the crisp scent of cut grass, the sun kissing your skin, and the sweat from working that makes you proud of what you’ve done.

It’s waking up each day and going to bed with the same image in your mind of a quiet space to retreat and feel whole.

It’s time, friend… time to let go of these stressors you’ve clung to and give them to Jesus. Release it and find rest in Him – He will carry you through this season and the others to come.

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” Matthew 11:28-30 (NLT)

It’s in the middle of the ugly stages of life, and even this garden project, that I find myself growing closer with God. He doesn’t turn away from the mess, but longs to take it from us and make it into something new and beautiful for our good.

And knowing that we have a God that can take any mess I make in life and turn it into something good? That brings me peace and joy. That makes me want to lean into His grace and be renewed.
Winter Homebodies

January 29, 2026

There’s something about snow in Texas that regularly draws out the panic shoppers, lookie-loos for snow, and the inner NASCAR driver… but here, I’m approaching it with a little more wonder this year.

The beginnings of a garden plan sitting quiet – soon, I’ll get my hands back into the dirt and build in real life the visions I have in my head. 💙

In the Spencer household, my snow days started a little earlier than the actual weather. The pressure from the moving weather systems, plus my remaining allergy/sinus mix, led to a cluster headache that welcomed me to Thursday morning. This was the kind that pressing firmly on the top of your head gives relief, as well as doing projects with the one eye closed on the side where the headache is strongest. While I can generally muddle through, I get anxious about nausea and possibly throwing up at work – so home I went to snag a multi-hour nap. Thankfully, it did just the trick (paired with my muscle relaxers and pain meds).

The thing is, it drains me in every way – especially my mental health and social battery. The rest of Thursday and most of Friday was spent being reclusive, using the time to ping through different content I’m interested in right now and reflect. I spent time working through prayer, based on our Wednesday night study at church, where our pastor is doing a How to Pray sermon series and Bible study each week. Walking through the Lord’s Prayer, but molding it to your own situation/needs/temptations, is eye-opening and honestly… vulnerable. You open your heart in a whole different way to God when moving through the process of building out your prayer, asking for needs, giving thanks, and also talking about forgiveness for both yourself and how you give forgiveness to others.

It’s while praying that my brain started picking up on little ideas of things to explore. Part of my prayers lately have included guidance and discernment around my health and also the projects that keep my heart and mind racing. Some of these projects are for work; others for passive income (gotta find ways to cover medical bills without stressing our budget), and then some I feel tie into my calling or general path currently. YouTube and computer research, plus sketch ideas of our property, and daydreaming about different creations closed out the time in a much more relaxed state, with the headaches remaining mild.

The outdoor areas are dusted with snow, but my exploration has gone into winter sowing for seeds. Several videos have popped up lately for seed-starting, and my social media feeds pulled some Ziplock gallon bag ideas to try out a few types of seeds with. I also have new cuttings I’ve started propagating in water on our grow light shelf unit.

Lavender is one flower I’d like to grow this year in bigger clusters either in the front or backyard area. Purple is a favorite color in our family, but it’s also relaxing, a great pollinator, and I’m planning some projects that will incorporate dried lavender.

While I’m tip-toeing into seed starters and more ‘Frankenstein’ plants, I’ve jumped into the deep end with hydroponic growing, using our Gardyn system.

This is the larger Gardyn system with 30 spaces for plants. Lots of other components including the app, cameras, timed lights, and large watering chamber making this the easiest system I’ve used for growing plants, especially ones that never survive here in Texas.

These is just a peek at what the Gardyn system has produced as of today. I’ve already been picking and using the salads I’m familiar with, and other items still need time to grow.

Our purple kohlrabi is coming along! So cool to see the whole process of its formation – as a kid, we wouldn’t be able to see this much since they were half buried in the ground. I’ve also only had the green/white variety, not purple. Can’t wait! 🤩

Bloom big, Sunflower friend 🌻 I’m looking forward to seeing you soon 🫶

Gardyn also has full-size strawberry plants 💕

From the Gardyn salad kit I started with, I’ve been enjoying the greenery as it grows and bit by bit using ingredients. But, some plants hadn’t been touched and have gone a little wild – so we made curry.

Quick and easy, plus used several pantry items up

7 greens used: 2 types of Tatsoi, 2 kinds of kale, spinach, and 2 types of basil

Living in England for 6 years, curry was something discovered as a kid – but I realized later it’s a different type of curry that they make compared to authentic Indian food. Still, the pungent scent of curry powder is a vivid reminder of childhood scenes from different villages in the Lakenheath/Mildenhall area, and several explorations with different flavor types being discovered.

Initial dusting of snow from the first night. This loony girl couldn’t get enough of her first snow ❄️

The rest of our time with snow has been entertaining, with Duck (our corgi) experiencing snow for the first time. Mixed into it, we’ve taken time to enjoy movies, experiment in baking/cooking, and playing computer games. My husband, notorious in our family for getting cabin fever the most, took mini breaks outside, gauging the roads in our local area and spending a little time outside the house. Our daughter did the same via short walks, with Duck as her companion in the snow. She even met one of the neighborhood kids and Duck joined the child for a little bit of sledding.

I’m reminded, through all of this, that slowing down can reveal some truly beautiful moments. The breathtaking view of everything blanketed in white, the childlike wonder of our puppy seeing snow for the first time, and connecting with our neighbors and friends.

Luckily, this year was not as fear fraught as our snowstorm in 2021. Power overall seemed to hold, while water was hit and miss (and really dependent on us forgetting our front faucet cover for the kitchen line). But the city offered warming stations, while others stayed in touch via text and social media to bolster spirits and answer the needs of friends if anything came up.

Someone is moping because she had to come in for a bit – silly Duck 🥰

I had time for a small burst of creativity, too.

A work in progress, simply named Fruit Drawing. I posted Part 1 and Part 2 of the timelapse sessions on Instagram. But it still has a little ways to go.

I worked with watercolors again. A cheap and simple watercolor tray with a water based pen-brush got me started with swirling colors and making blends. While playing with the pigments the first time, I had the happy accidental discovery of what looked like birds in the blobbed shapes I made. So I made birds!

Love this phrase, and seemed apt to have it with my kissing birds. 🥰

Hopefully these birds look like they’re dancing and not just twitchy 🤣 I am not very good at placing the movement lines, but I think this sufficed for this piece ☺️

Some of the shapes ended up too close together, or a flick of the brush made a circle look like it had a hook. But that’s what makes the drawings fun and spontaneous – you work with whatever happens. I think in the end, these turned out just right and I still have one more to play with during my next time off. 🤩

So with our church service cancelled on Sunday and school cancelled as well, the family had three days off together.

It’s interesting — and probably all part of His actual plan — but I’ve been talking with God about slowing down and resetting again after some busier weeks and mixed news regarding nerve pain and other stuff. This snow fits to that request, and gave a chance to rest, realign with Him, and analyze the things I need to be doing to get back on track. It was also an opportunity to reinforce my spiritual foundation before my next round of appointments and work commitments. In the end, I’m thankful. God’s timing in all things is perfect, even if we don’t understand it all the time.

Not everyone is happy with having snow — I know it comes with real stressors for many — but it feels like just what we needed.

As for my work and home stuff, am I really that far off with things that I need to “get back on track”?

Honestly, no. It’s just the inner dialogue I have with myself that makes me feel I am. But then, that’s part of taking intentional quiet time to talk with God: He reminds me that I’m not expected to push myself till I break. My worth is not diminished by asking to go home early one day, and He is always with me in the unknown or confusing of these physical/mental health concerns. God guides and protects us in every part of our lives, even if sometimes it has to be from ourselves.

The same is true for you, my friend.

You are worthy of taking time for self-care. Slowing down is not weakness – it’s healing. And the little bumps along the way? They are not a reflection of you as a whole – they’re just part of the landmarks for your beautiful journey in life. Don’t let your inner voice wrestle away any peace you find in quieting your heart and mind during a season of pause. Breathe deep, knowing you are loved as you are because of whom you belong to.

I can always come to Him when I need to feel grounded, rebalanced, and whole. Prayer, while it sounds so simple, does this for me, and I’m thankful for the reminder of this truth, plus the other moments of pause and gratitude for what we have, that came with our week of snow. 💙
“Begin.”

January 3, 2026

“Begin.” A word with a lot of meanings when you use it to describe what you hope to do in the upcoming year.

I’m not writing this as a big announcement or a promise that I’ll do everything perfectly. It’s more like a marker in the ground: I’m beginning again — slowly, honestly, and with God at the center.

For me, “begin” means starting from the basics and evaluating each area of my life — relearning things I’ve forgotten over time, and finding ways to be more efficient where I can. It also means a kind of evolution: changing behaviors and habits, starting projects, and not making excuses to myself about why I haven’t done what’s been pressed on my heart for months.

No matter how I do it, I need to begin.

Art and Creativity

While I’ve been creating artwork since 2016, I haven’t been super proactive about posting my creations since 2020 (yep — Covid zapped my initiative there). It’s been long enough to wallow in fear, uncertainty, and general lack of confidence.

This means my Etsy store will be getting an update, and then as I create items, they’ll be posted. No bells and whistles, and no trying to chase trends I’m not familiar with — just authentic creations inspired by whatever strikes my fancy in the moment. And honestly, that might mean I hang out for a while on the same kinds of pieces… and that’s perfectly fine.

This also means a reset of authentic pricing — not selling myself short out of fear of rejection, or fear that someone won’t like what I make. There’s a little something for everyone… and at the same time, not everything will be everyone’s cup of tea. At the end of the day, it’s the act of creating — and what God does in me through the process — that will mean the most. The artwork is the end result, but it’s not the entire journey.

One of my dreams/goals is to make art accessible, even for people who don’t feel like they “can” make art. That means demonstrating different mediums, styles, and ways of creating. Some of it is intuitive, but a lot of it comes from unlocking pieces of ourselves that we all have: curiosity, resourcefulness, and the ability to notice inspiration everywhere.

I want to help people tap into that, and then use whatever means works for them to create something from it — drawing, painting, crafting with glue and paper, photography, or anything else that captures what held their attention and fed that inner spark.

I’d love to work with all ages, but especially teens and adults who are looking for a new hobby, projects that help them feel grounded when struggling with mental health needs, or even a way to connect socially.

What will this look like? I’m really not sure yet. But a few ideas are to bring back some live streams with more of a game plan — set “lessons” or projects we work through together. I’ll also share process videos in the places I already show up (FB/IG/TikTok/YouTube).

One day, I’d love to set up mini workshops in-person, but that’s probably way down the line. In 2026, though, I hope to do a couple family/friend “test runs” to get feedback on what works and what doesn’t. If you’re in the Abilene area and interested in participating, give me a shout or drop a comment to let me know.

Writing and Publishing

2025 came with some experimenting in a different creative pursuit: Amazon KDP (Kindle Direct Publishing) and Pocket FM. I also started my blog here (of course!), wrote articles on Medium, and posted regular content for engagement with the communities I’ve built on Facebook and Instagram.

Toward the end of the year, I started working on a long-term story that initially had one chapter posted each day. I’m honestly not sure I’ll be able to maintain that kind of schedule with everything else I’m interested in doing — but regular updates will continue so readers can keep up with the citizens of Brushwood Hollow and find out what’s happening with the Ashford family and friends in He’s Always Watching.

In the fall, I had a sudden burst of inspiration for another story — though this one is a little more therapeutic for me. Called Fractured Walls, it begins with a woman standing outside a derelict manor with little to no memory of herself or why she’s there — just an urgent sense that she needs to find something, vague flickers of past events teasing her thoughts, and a note in her pocket.

It’s a psychological mystery/thriller that nearly wrote itself in one go while I was drawing one night. I get the feeling it won’t stop dancing in my head until I have the whole thing written out… but it’s being done in short bursts as the storyline evolves.

I’ve also started writing and publishing devotionals — and this is by far the area I’ve been most excited about. The topics I’m working with right now focus on doubt and anxiety, leadership, overcoming negative self-talk, and developing compassion for ourselves.

Most of these follow a simple template: scripture, reflection, prayer, and a writing prompt. But I’ve also started one that includes a love letter from God that reveals a truth we often forget, and then moves into reflection and other pieces to highlight the heart of that truth. I’ve been able to include my own drawings too, which has been a really meaningful way to merge several creative passions into one creation.

At the end of the day, these devotionals mean a lot to me because I’m hoping they resonate with the people who read them. If it helps someone see God’s love a little clearer, then I’m happy.

Nature, Sustainability, and Creating a Personal Retreat

2025 has been the year of doctor appointments and trying to figure out some health things that have been lingering for several years. Along the way, I’ve realized sustainability and self-sufficiency (especially with our ingredients and where we get them from) is something I really want to work on.

I’m also drawn to plants, flowers, and the essential act of caring for living things and watching how they mature over time.

After kicking ideas around throughout the year — plus a couple failed starts — I’ve resolved that even if it’s just 15–20 minutes a day, I can still make progress. I may not have tons of energy, but I can get outside and work a small section of the yard each day, or care for the plants I’ve started fitting into random areas all over the house.

I’ve also done a lot of research and experimenting with propagation and “Frankenstein” produce (the kind you can regrow from what you buy at the store: pineapple, green onions, lettuce, and anything that houses a seed). I even tossed around a few garden nursery names if I ever pursued something like that — Franken-Eats and Zombie Growing were a couple of the quirky daydreams — but I don’t have a solid plan to pursue that right now.

Rather than a nursery, the bigger idea is to build up the front and back yards into places I can retreat when I need time with nature… and a space where I can honor my Opa’s memory. The garden he had when I was growing up was a place of adventure for a kid. I loved walking the paths and exploring all the plant life tucked into different zones, nooks, and crannies. The air felt fresher in Opa’s garden, and it always brought a deep sense of peace.

While I hope to capture a piece of that, I also hope it can serve other purposes too: food that can be shared beyond our family needs, a way to connect with neighbors and community, a place to sit and rest, a cutting garden to share flowers from, a hobby of propagating and sharing young plants and seeds, a place to create plein air paintings, a spot to invite friends and family to… and more.

Faith Journey and Calling

All of these ideas keep resonating with me, and I keep feeling that nudge — like when God is trying to tell you something.

It’s not something I can fully explain, but there’s something here He’s wanting me to work on. It might be that these projects are just a season — one where I learn and grow, and then have something to look back on as proof that I can tackle future challenges. But I think it’s more than that.

In all the work I’ve done, it’s been service-driven. And all these things I’ve been doing — art, hobby gardening, writing, and everything else over the years — are starting to come into focus as a way of connecting with people in different ways for different needs they have.

Anyone who hears all of this, and also knows me and the other things I balance (a full-time job, family, volunteer commitments, the health needs I mentioned, and my tendency to run hard with an idea and then taper off…) might think, “Oh, that’s nice…”

But I can’t stop thinking about these things. They don’t just go away. If it was a passing thought, it would’ve already come and gone — but these have continued to evolve and morph into a more condensed version of the original ideas for years.

And that’s what keeps me from letting them go.

It’s also because I think they’ll help me accomplish my last goal: to be closer to God. I believe these “random” projects, if done with Him at the forefront, can come to fruition. And in leaning into what I sense He’s telling me, these ideas can have an impact that goes way beyond me — and that’s what I really want from it all.

Something that reflects the calling God has for me.

So… I’ll begin.

I’ll keep working incrementally, and I’ll lean on quiet time with God for guidance and clarity on how this is supposed to come together. I’m going to work with Him on my anxiety and doubt, but still step forward — so that 2026 is the beginning of whatever beautiful plans He has.
Finding Gratitude in the Messy Middle

November 29, 2025
Some days, little things just make me want to gripe. But at the end of the day, I know I don’t have it nearly as bad as so many people around the world—those battling malnourishment, persecution, hate crimes, family violence, addiction, loss, and so much more.

Please hear my heart: I know the things that trouble me are nothing compared to the grand scheme of what our world endures in the face of darkness and evil.

But we’re human. And while it’s important to keep that global context in mind, it’s also important not to reduce our own struggles so much that we start to feel unworthy, unimportant, or like what we’re dealing with is “all in our head.” We’re not wasting anyone’s time by advocating for a little less pain or a little more peace.

So again, I find myself asking: when it comes to always giving thanks—what about those times when things aren’t going well?

There’s no perfect answer. Each of us has to find our own way through that question, using our own experiences as a guide.

For me, two big truths come to mind:
1. I am not alone.
2. I’ve overcome things before.
You and I aren’t alone—we have the support of an amazing God who wants to walk with us in both the good and the hard times. He listens, really listens, celebrating the positives and grieving with us in the struggles. That’s why I try to keep up my daily prayer time. I don’t want Jesus to think I only come to Him with problems—I want Him in everything I do. Staying close in conversation makes it easier to hear Him when I need counsel, or at least to be open to His answers, even if they come in unexpected ways.

And I remind myself: I’ve made it through tough things before. If I could do it once, I can do it again. But I also know I don’t have to do it alone. While the positive thinking and mental work is mine to do, I lean on the support of family and friends for the rest. Whether it’s advice from their own journeys, sharing a laugh, or just helping out with daily life, my support team is elemental. Together with faith, they help me keep fear and doubt from overtaking trust in God.

So at the end of the day, gratitude weaves through every changing season. I can still find something to be thankful for in every moment—even if I have to squint a little to see it.

Some days feel like a gentle sunrise. Others, like a giant wave crashing over me. No matter what kind of day it is, I notice how faith helps me hold both the beauty and the messiness of life. And honestly? It’s that beauty and messiness that makes it all worth pushing forward for the next experience, leaning on Jesus for support and guidance.

How are you finding gratitude in every season? What helps you stay grounded, even in life’s messiest moments?
Quiet Moments

November 21, 2025

Quiet moments can shape our whole day.

Sometimes the only calm I find is in the soft light before the house wakes up. My sketchbook open and coffee cooling beside me, I breathe in the hush and ask God for just enough peace to meet what’s next.

I’m working on rebuilding quiet into my day.

Right now, it starts with adding in a morning routine of getting up ahead of my alarm. Any amount of time before my alarm is scheduled to go off is mine to enjoy, and gives me incentive to be up and about before it rings.

Sometimes, the morning starts with taking inventory of myself, my thoughts, and where I’m at mentally. Those are the days I stay a bit longer in bed, but alert and processing through the tangle of feelings and worries.

Other days, I’m up immediately to let our fur kiddos out (proud mama of 3 dogs, as well as a thriving almost-14-year-old) and set up my coffee to brew. Then I find one of my comfort spots for relaxing and meeting God before everything else happens.

Sometimes, it’s working on a devotional or Bible study, other times I just meditate and allow myself to be open to his prodding. Sometimes it’s drawing while talking to God, or journaling my prayer talk with him. Other times, it’s working on a puzzle and soaking up time with our pups, accepting their warmth and companionship.

God has a lot of different stories and ideas he works through with me. He definitely had fun when he set up my personality and various gifts/skills.

It’s incredible to reflect on the way God has guided me through creative brainstorming to these amazing inspirations that simply take my own breath away; like, “really? I did that?” It’s equally fascinating when he does nothing but ease me back into moments of quiet reflection and serenity. He truly knows what I need in each moment, so long as I allow myself to be led by him.

My favorite way to spend quiet time is with my journal — writing out my conversations with God is cathartic and grounding on so many levels.

When I reach the level of flow I usually have with my artwork, it’s like everything fades to the background and it’s just the two of us. The ‘talk’ shifts back and forth and I truly feel heard and answered.

I have the times I let my mind wander through all my different thoughts while drawing or writing, asking God to highlight the ideas and tasks that I need to capture and remember – these become my focus points during the day. But the rest is like a giant brain dump, releasing me to wipe the slate clean; to release whatever unnecessary things I’m carrying and put them to rest for good.

These quiet moments of reflection help me ease into the unknown of the day and are my safety net — my opportunity to intentionally focus on where I want my mind to be as I start my day.

What does your morning look like?

If you want, try this: pause for a single deep breath, and whisper a prayer for steady hands and a gentle heart today.

Share your favorite quiet ritual below, or just let me know if you need a prayer friend this week. ☕🕊️
Pause and Listen

November 18, 2025

When did you last pause and listen?

Sometimes, in the swirl of creative projects and the everyday rush of parenting, it feels like the quiet moments slip away before we notice. I find myself reflecting on how easily I fill the silence—whether with art, prayer, or just the hum of laundry tumbling in the next room.

I’m trying to seek intentional pause in my days: a cup of coffee slowly sipped, turning the TV off early in the evening, read a physical book and marking things direct in the pages that speak to me, and even cuddling our pups close and listening to their breathing when they relax against me to nap.

These little moments feel like something I’ve been chasing lately – like fireflies dancing in the wind. And when I realize what I’ve found, I can’t help but pause — pause and drink in the beauty of finally capturing a brief moment of calm that sustains me when life gets busy.

I have to laugh. This is nothing I would have wanted as ‘Past Me’. The quiet would have been too much like giving up on an adventure, or something I would sit in anxiously rather than peacefully.

But now I crave this reflective time, enjoying observing and listening rather than being in the center of it all. This evolution is a change of priorities, realignment of where my focus is nowadays, and also self-care from being part of the chaotic secular world. A world that constantly pushes for more action than introspect, and claims we fall behind when we lack ‘hustle’.

But it’s the hustle itself that these glimmers of time pushes away when God aligns our path with them. He truly knows what we need and my guess? It’s quiet time for me in this season of life. It’s reflecting and, while I’m still up for adventure, it’s more “smelling the roses” than it is being an adrenaline junkie.

What does it look like for you to make space for God’s gentle voice amid your daily rhythms? I’d love to hear how you find (or miss) those pockets of stillness in your own season of life.

Let’s share and encourage each other today. 🍂

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Art and Creativity

Writing and Publishing

Nature, Sustainability, and Creating a Personal Retreat

Faith Journey and Calling