SCS Designs Co. – Handcrafted Art & Creative Journey

"Learning to Trust the Creative Process: A Self-Taught Artist's Perspective"

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  • Taking the Leap: Why I Just Sent Friend Requests to Everyone I’ve Ever Met (And Why I’m Terrified)

    Taking the Leap: Why I Just Sent Friend Requests to Everyone I’ve Ever Met (And Why I’m Terrified)

    You know that feeling when the Holy Spirit keeps nudging you to do something, and you keep finding creative ways to ignore it? Yeah, that’s been me for months now.

    The nudge? Reach out to people. Reconnect. Stop being so worried about looking stupid and just… connect.

    So today I did the thing. I sent out friend requests and page invites to basically everyone I’ve ever met. And now I’m sitting here like, “Oh no, what did I just do?”

    The List That Made Me Realize How Blessed I’ve Been

    As I was going through my contacts, adding people from every season of my life, I started seeing this beautiful pattern emerge. There were classmates from my overseas school days and my stateside high school years. Former grocery store coworkers from when I was just starting out. Team members I supervised, managers who supervised me. People I met at vendor events when I was brave enough to set up my first art booth. And now, my church family at Aldersgate – both congregation members and the amazing people I work with in my administrator role.

    Looking at this list, I realized something pretty incredible: I’ve been blessed to cross paths with some truly amazing people. Each one of these connections has been a thread in the tapestry of who I am today. They’ve influenced my art, shaped my perspective, and helped me grow in ways I probably didn’t even realize at the time.

    The Vulnerability of Putting Yourself Out There

    Here’s the thing about sharing your art and your heart online – it’s terrifying. Every post feels like standing naked in front of a crowd, hoping someone will say “hey, that’s beautiful” instead of “what were you thinking?”

    But during my prayer journaling this morning, I felt like I got a clear answer to my fear: the only way past the scary feeling is to do the scary thing. You find bravery by acting brave, even when your insides are doing gymnastics. You acclimate to the fear by facing it. And eventually – hopefully – the fear fades.

    That doesn’t make hitting “send” any easier, though.

    From Wallflower to… Still Feeling Like a Wallflower

    I keep telling myself I’m not still that super awkward kid I was in high school, but honestly? Some days I feel exactly like her. The one who wanted to connect but didn’t know how. The one who had thoughts and ideas but was too scared to share them.

    The difference now is that I’m choosing to share anyway. My Thursday night Facebook Live art sessions, my blog posts about faith and creativity, my zentangle bookmarks that I hope bring peace to someone’s reading time – it’s all me saying “here I am, awkward edges and all.”

    What I’m Really Hoping For

    When I sent out those invites today, I wasn’t just asking people to follow my art page. I was saying, “Hey, remember me? We shared some space in this world for a while, and that mattered to me. Want to see what I’m creating these days?”

    I’m hoping my art can add a bright pop of color to someone’s social media feed when they need it. I’m hoping the prayer prompts and spiritual reflections I share might be exactly what someone needs in that moment. But mostly, I’m hoping people can see that every person we encounter – even briefly – has the potential to influence us in beautiful ways.

    Maybe you were the coworker who showed me kindness during a tough shift. Maybe you were the classmate who made me laugh when I needed it. Maybe you were the church member who welcomed me with genuine warmth. You might not think you played a big role, but you did. You were part of my story.

    The Invitation (And My Nervous Hope)

    So if you got one of those friend requests or page invites today, know that it came with a side of “please don’t think this is weird” and a whole lot of hope. Hope that we can reconnect. Hope that we can talk about art and life and faith and whatever else comes up. Hope that the connections we made years ago can bloom into something new.

    I’m still that person who second-guesses herself all the way through hitting “send.” But I’m also learning that some of the best things in life happen when you do the scary thing anyway.

    Thanks for being part of my journey, whether you realize it or not. I’m grateful for every encounter, every conversation, every moment that helped shape who I’m becoming.

    Now, let’s see what happens next. *nervous laugh*

    Are you someone who struggles with reaching out to old connections? I’d love to hear about it – sometimes knowing we’re not alone in the awkwardness makes it easier to be brave.

  • When Art Becomes a Trust Exercise: The Sad Reality of Online Art Sales

    When Art Becomes a Trust Exercise: The Sad Reality of Online Art Sales

    Sunday, August 24, 2025 – 5:58 AM

    This morning I got a message that broke my heart in a way I wasn’t expecting.

    Someone had seen my work, expressed genuine interest, and asked for my Etsy link. Normal stuff, right? But then they followed up with, “Do you have legit tracking that you send?”

    And it hit me. They weren’t questioning my professionalism – they were protecting themselves. Someone had hurt them before. Some scammer had taken their money, maybe sent them nothing, or worse. Now here they were, wanting to support a real artist but having to ask if I was… real.

    The Scammer Playbook (And Why We’re All Tired of It)

    If you’re an artist selling online, you know exactly what I’m talking about. The messages start the same way every time:

    “I love your work! Can you send me your Etsy link?”

    Your heart jumps a little. A potential sale! Someone who appreciates what you create! Then comes the pivot:

    • “I can’t purchase through Etsy, can you send it directly?”
    • “I need you to send me a piece first for account verification”
    • “I want to promote your work on my page – just need your banking info”
    • “My assistant will send you a check for more than the amount, just send the difference back”

    Every single time, that initial excitement gets crushed. Because you know. You’ve learned to recognize the pattern. Another scammer trying to prey on artists who are just trying to share their gifts with the world.

    The Ripple Effect That’s Breaking My Heart

    But here’s what really gets me – it’s not just about the scammers. It’s about what they’re doing to everyone else.

    That person who asked about “legit tracking” this morning? They’ve been burned. Maybe multiple times. Now they have to approach every artist with suspicion. They can’t just fall in love with a piece and buy it. They have to investigate first. Protect themselves first.

    And honestly? I don’t blame them.

    As artists, we’ve had to become detectives too. Every inquiry gets the side-eye now. Is this person real? Are they actually interested in my work, or are they about to ask me to send them something “for verification”?

    It’s exhausting. And it’s heartbreaking.

    What Real Actually Looks Like

    Here’s the thing – legitimate artists aren’t trying to work around established platforms. We WANT you to use Etsy, or our website, or whatever secure payment system we’ve set up. We want you to have buyer protection. We want you to feel safe.

    Real artists:

    • Use established platforms with buyer protection
    • Provide tracking information through those platforms
    • Never ask for your banking information
    • Don’t need you to “verify” anything by sending money or products first
    • Are happy to answer questions about our process, materials, and shipping

    When I price my work now, I’m completely transparent – art supplies + shipping material + minimal profit for sustainability (generally $1-$3 for my smaller hand drawn pieces depending on time spent on the piece). That’s it. No hidden fees, no complicated payment schemes. Because authentic art sales shouldn’t be complicated.

    The Bigger Picture That’s Got Me Feeling Heavy

    This whole situation makes me sad for reasons that go way beyond business. Art is supposed to be about connection. It’s about someone seeing something you created and feeling something. It’s about supporting creativity and bringing beauty into the world.

    But now? Now it’s become a game of “are you real or not?”

    Every time someone has to ask if my tracking is “legit,” a little piece of the joy gets chipped away. Not because they’re wrong to ask – they’re absolutely right to protect themselves. But because they have to ask at all.

    The scammers aren’t just stealing money. They’re stealing trust. They’re stealing the simple joy of “I love this, I want to buy it.” They’re making every interaction start with suspicion instead of appreciation.

    Moving Forward (With Hope, Somehow)

    I don’t have a magic solution for this mess. The scammers aren’t going anywhere, and the wariness they’ve created is probably permanent.

    But maybe we can start somewhere. Maybe we can be extra patient with each other. Maybe buyers can know that real artists understand your caution and won’t be offended by your questions. Maybe artists can be more transparent about our processes and more understanding about the skepticism we encounter.

    And maybe, just maybe, we can slowly rebuild some of that trust that’s been broken.

    Because at the end of the day, I still believe in the magic that happens when someone connects with a piece of art. I still believe in the joy of creating something that brings light into someone else’s world.

    I just wish we didn’t have to verify each other’s humanity first.

    What’s your experience been with online art purchases? Have you been burned by scammers, or are you an artist dealing with this same frustration? I’d love to hear your thoughts – the real ones, from real people, in this complicated digital world we’re all trying to navigate.

  • Monday Morning Grace

    Monday Morning Grace

    There’s something both brutal and beautiful about Monday mornings. The weekend’s gentle pace collides with the week’s demands, and suddenly we’re expected to shift gears like it’s nothing.

    But what if we approached this transition differently? What if Sunday evenings became our bridge to Monday grace instead of letting Monday morning shock our systems awake?

    I’ve been learning to give myself (and my family) a little extra grace on Mondays – not just in the moment, but in the preparation. It’s about creating space for each of us to transition in our own way, honoring the different rhythms that help us feel ready for the week ahead.

    Finding Our Family’s Monday Rhythm

    Each of us has discovered what we need to feel prepared:

    Jay (bless him) thrives on consistency – up and ready at the same time every day with steady routines that keep him grounded. But this also means when something interrupts that flow, it can throw off his whole day.

    Aspen has mastered the art of Sunday night prep, giving herself permission to wake a little later and just grab-and-go. She’s figured out how to honor her need for extra sleep while still being ready.

    And me? I’ve learned that my Monday grace often happens on Sunday – making sure their routines can flow smoothly, because when Monday starts rocky for them, those stressors ripple through our entire week.

    The Ripple Effect of Understanding

    This family rhythm-finding has taught me something deeper about grace in leadership too. When we take time to understand each person’s individual stressors and preparation needs, we create space for everyone to show up as their best selves. It’s not about forcing one approach on everyone – it’s about honoring the different ways people reset and recharge.

    Monday morning grace looks like acknowledging the transition instead of pretending it’s seamless. It’s okay if it takes a minute to find your rhythm again. It’s okay if your Monday prep looks different from everyone else’s.

    What does Monday morning grace look like in your world? How do you honor your own rhythm while creating space for others to find theirs?

  • When the School Bell Rings: Finding Sacred Pause in August’s Rush

    When the School Bell Rings: Finding Sacred Pause in August’s Rush

    The back-to-school aisles are calling. Lunch boxes, folders, and that particular scent of fresh crayons that somehow makes every parent simultaneously excited and slightly panicked. Whether you’re sending a middle schooler off to navigate new hallways (hello, Aspen!) or you’re the one heading back to work after a slower summer rhythm, August has this way of hitting like a gentle tsunami.

    I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, especially after our recent Branson vacation – those slow mornings on the cabin porch, the luxury of not checking the clock every five minutes. There’s something sacred about those unhurried moments that we tend to abandon the second “real life” kicks back in.

    But here’s what I’m learning: the busy doesn’t have to overwhelm us.

    The Myth of August Survival Mode

    We’ve somehow convinced ourselves that busy seasons require us to shift into survival mode – gulp coffee instead of savoring it, rush through conversations, let self-care slide “just until things settle down.” But what if the busy seasons are exactly when we need our anchoring practices most?

    I think about the staff meetings I facilitate, the payroll deadlines that don’t negotiate, the art projects calling from my studio. Each one important, each one demanding attention. But somewhere between the urgent and the important, I’ve discovered there’s space for breath.

    Sacred Pauses in Chaotic Rhythms

    A sacred pause doesn’t require a meditation retreat or an hour of quiet time (though wouldn’t that be nice?). Sometimes it’s:

    – Taking three deep breaths before opening your laptop

    – Saying a quick prayer of gratitude while waiting in the school pickup line  

    – Choosing to actually taste your morning coffee instead of just consuming it

    – Letting yourself feel proud of small wins – like getting everyone out the door with matching socks

    These aren’t Instagram-worthy moments, but they’re life-giving ones.

    Permission to Pace Yourself

    Here’s your gentle reminder: You don’t have to match everyone else’s pace. You don’t have to say yes to every opportunity, volunteer for every committee, or maintain the same energy level from August through December.

    Some seasons call for sprinting. Others call for steady walking. And sometimes – especially during transitions – we need to give ourselves permission to find our rhythm without judgment.

    Questions for Your Heart

    As you navigate this back-to-school season, maybe sit with these questions:

    – What one practice helps you feel most grounded when life gets hectic?

    – Where can you build in tiny moments of pause throughout your day?

    – What would it look like to approach this busy season with curiosity instead of dread?

    – How can you model healthy rhythms for the people watching you (kids, coworkers, friends)?

    A Prayer for Busy Seasons

    *God, as schedules fill and demands increase, help us remember that our worth isn’t measured by our productivity. Grant us wisdom to know when to push forward and when to rest. May we find You in the ordinary moments – the school drop-offs, the work meetings, the evening routines. Help us create space for what matters most, even when everything feels urgent. Amen.*

    Moving Forward

    The school bells will ring. The calendars will fill. The to-do lists will multiply. But you – beautiful, capable, sometimes overwhelmed you – get to choose how you move through it all.

    Maybe this year, instead of just surviving the busy, we learn to find the sacred within it.

    What’s one small way you’re planning to stay grounded this school year? I’d love to hear about it in the comments.

  • When Meal Plans Meet Real Life: Finding Your Family’s Food Rhythm

    When Meal Plans Meet Real Life: Finding Your Family’s Food Rhythm

    We’ve all been there – weekend grocery shopping with the best intentions, armed with meal plans and fresh ingredients, ready to conquer the busy week ahead. Then Monday hits, and suddenly every carefully planned dinner seems to require more time, energy, or ingredients than you actually have.

    Some weeks, elaborate meal planning goes straight out the window. That’s when simple swaps become your saving grace.

    Finding Our Own Family Rhythm

    I remember a summer evening when Jay and I were sitting down to what was definitely not the Pinterest-worthy family dinner I’d envisioned. While I was internally critiquing our less-than-perfect setup, he reminded me of something important: each family has to find their own rhythm. Whether or not it matches the cultural image of how things “should” look doesn’t matter – what matters is meeting our own family’s needs and making it work for us, whatever that ends up looking like.

    That conversation shifted everything for me. Instead of beating myself up for not cooking elaborate meals from scratch, I learned to make small upgrades that still nourish without the stress:

    • Kodiak individual oatmeal and muffin cups instead of full pancake batches (hello, protein boost!)
    • Pre-cut veggies to speed up weeknight prep
    • Rotisserie chicken for quick, real-food meals
    • Frozen veggies that won’t guilt-trip me from the crisper drawer
    • Bulk prepping basics: hard-boiled eggs, brown rice, slow-cooked seasoned proteins that work with anything

    Redefining “Family Dinner”

    It’s also meant releasing the Norman Rockwell imagery that used to haunt my kitchen. Our work-and-school-week dinners might happen standing at the counter, or with everyone eating at slightly different times, or with paper plates because nobody has energy for dishes. And that’s perfectly fine.

    What matters is being comfortable in our space, having nourishing food, and connecting as a family – even if that connection happens over reheated leftovers.

    Perfect is the enemy of good, especially in the kitchen. Progress over perfection wins every time. Grace over guilt creates space for what actually matters.

    What’s your favorite healthy swap for crazy-busy weeks? How has your family found its own food rhythm?

  • When Art Becomes Prayer: Creating for Joy vs. Purpose

    I’ve been thinking a lot lately about why I create. Not the surface-level “because I love art” answer, but the deeper question that keeps surfacing during my Thursday night live sessions: Am I creating for joy, or am I creating for purpose?

    Alcohol ink and acrylic on canvas – 🌟 this is my motto when the world and my mood seem to be swimming in shades of gray… throw some color (and positivity) on it.

    It’s a question that’s been dancing around my heart, especially as I’ve shifted SCS Designs toward a more ministry-focused approach. And honestly? I think I’ve been wrestling with a false choice.

    The Joy of Creating

    There’s this magic that happens when I’m lost in a piece – when the brush moves without my brain overthinking every stroke. It’s pure, childlike flow. The kind of creating where time disappears and suddenly I look up to find I’ve been painting for three hours straight.

    This is creating for joy. It’s spontaneous, unplanned, deeply personal. Success isn’t measured by likes or sales, but by how alive I feel in that moment. It’s art as prayer, art as breathing, art as being fully present with God in the process.

    This piece caught me by surprise in the loveliest way. Dabbling with colors and letting my mind wander as I created in a state of flow, this cotton candy sky emerged with whimsy and the call to escape into new adventures.

    The Purpose Behind the Paint

    But then there’s the other side – the pieces I create knowing someone needs to see them. The zentangle prayer guides born from my own need for spiritual grounding. The scripture art that whispers hope to a weary heart scrolling through Facebook at midnight.

    This is creating for purpose. There’s intention behind every decision, every color choice, every word I letter. I’m thinking about who needs this message, how it might land in their day, what healing it might offer. The impact on others becomes part of what fuels the creative fire.

    A piece that called to me – this was created for a friend who was considering a music position with our church. It includes the hymn that inspired him during that season “All That I Am”. This piece was specific to his interests, blending music, the hymn refrain, and water to represent his love for diving. And tucked into various places, little prayers and other song lyrics were written to carry the prayer for his peace and confidence with regard to the Music Director position. Here, purpose carried through the creation process to share a special message with him. 🧡

    Finding the Sacred Balance

    Here’s what I’m learning: joy and purpose don’t have to be at odds. In fact, the most powerful art I’ve created has been when they dance together.

    My Thursday live sessions are the perfect example. I create for the pure joy of the process – the meditative rhythm of zentangle patterns, the surprise of watching colors blend on canvas. But I’m also deeply aware that someone watching might need exactly what unfolds in that moment. The joy becomes the vehicle for purpose.

    When I made the decision to shift to ministry-over-profit pricing, something clicked. I wasn’t creating just to make money (which can slowly drain the joy) or just for myself (which might miss the deeper calling). I was creating because the act of making art AND sharing it brought both personal fulfillment and served something bigger than me.

    The Beautiful Tension

    Sometimes I wonder if this tension is actually sacred. Maybe the question isn’t whether to create for joy or purpose, but how to let them inform each other. When what lights me up is exactly what the world needs to see – that’s when art becomes prayer, becomes ministry, becomes exactly what it’s meant to be.

    As I sit here tonight, paintbrush in hand and another piece calling to be born, I’m not asking myself which camp this one falls into. Instead, I’m asking: What wants to emerge through me right now? And how can I show up fully – joyfully, purposefully – to whatever that is?

    Because maybe that’s where the real magic lives – in the space where joy meets purpose, where personal expression serves something greater, where creating becomes both gift and offering.

    What about you? Do you feel a different energy when you’re creating purely for joy versus when you have a specific purpose in mind? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.

  • Escaping to the Ozarks – Finding Magic in the Mountains

    Sometimes the best lessons come disguised as vacation days. Our recent escape to the Ozarks wasn’t just about getting away – it was about remembering how to breathe, how to notice, and how to let life unfold without a rigid schedule dictating every moment.

    Highest point in Branson, MO

    ## **The Journey & Mountain Magic**

    The drive to Branson felt like crossing into another world – one where time moved slower and the air tasted different. For my family across the ocean reading this, imagine rolling hills that seem to go on forever, dotted with little cabins and lakes that mirror the sky perfectly. We stayed in a place that felt like a storybook, complete with a porch that begged for morning coffee and evening conversations.

    The forest path down from our cabin
    Branson/Hollister bridge

    **David at Sight & Sound Theatre** was pure magic – the kind of production that makes you forget you’re sitting in a theater. The massive stage, live animals, and storytelling that transported us completely out of our everyday world. There’s something about experiencing art at that scale with family that creates memories you can feel in your chest years later.

    The statue of the lion and the lamb outside of the Sight & Sound Theatre

    Our **Pink Jeep tour with Sid** took us off the beaten path and into the rugged heart of the Ozarks. The downtown Branson route combined with the mountaintop scenic tour gave us perspectives of this place that you just can’t get from the main roads. Winding through trails with panoramic views of valleys stretching endlessly, breathing in that mountain air – it felt like adventure and peace wrapped together.

    The **escape room experience** (“Echoes of the Badlands”) turned into an unexpected confidence boost when we finished with 21 minutes to spare! For a first-timer, working alongside two other groups and actually succeeding felt like proof that sometimes the best discoveries happen when you try something completely new.

    Aspen and I after accomplishing our first room escape – can’t wait to do another one 😁

    **Meeting Luke** added that personal touch that transforms a vacation from tourist activities to genuine connection. There’s something special about locals who love their place so much that their enthusiasm becomes contagious – suddenly you’re seeing Branson through the eyes of someone who calls it home.

    Check out Full Throttle Distillery if you’re in the Branson area and ask for Luke! 🌟

    Even our practical moments became part of the adventure – **grocery shopping and craft mall exploring** on Monday, **making lasagna to last the week** (brilliant vacation meal planning), and **Aspen getting arcade time at the Bigfoot place** while Marcia enjoyed her shopping. These weren’t just logistics; they were the rhythm of family vacation life.

    Experiencing the Butterfly Palace included trying to entice as many butterflies to the nectar tubes as you could – slow and calm was essential for them to stick around 🫶
    About the only place where it’s ok for people to throw food 😂
    One of the last Dick’s 5 & 10 stores in the US
    Hollywood Wax Museum, plus Castle of Chaos – both were AWESOME to explore
    Ripley’s Believe It or Not Museum – I love this quote from Robert Ripley 🧡

    The mountains don’t rush. They’ve been there for thousands of years, watching seasons change, storms pass, and families like ours create memories in their shadows. There’s something humbling about that kind of permanence when your daily life feels like it’s moving at warp speed.

    ## **Cabin Mornings & The Art of Slowing Down**

    That first morning on the cabin porch changed everything. Coffee in hand, watching the world wake up without an agenda – I realized I’d forgotten how to just *be*. No mental checklist running in the background, no urgent emails demanding attention, no schedule dictating when this peaceful moment had to end.

    The cabin porch became my classroom in the art of slowing down. The mountains were teaching me their rhythm: unhurried, steady, present.

    I started noticing things I usually miss in the rush of daily life. The way morning light filtered through the trees differently each day. How the birds had their own schedule that had nothing to do with human urgency. The sound of absolutely nothing except nature doing what it does best – simply being.

    One of several visitors directly off of the cabin porch – they nested in the roof eaves and would flit back and forth with little whistles and chirps

    Those cabin mornings reminded me that slowing down isn’t about being lazy or unproductive. It’s about remembering that life happens in moments, not just in achievements. It’s about giving yourself permission to exist without constantly doing.

    ## **Lessons from the Mountains**

    The Ozarks don’t apologize for their pace. They don’t rush through seasons or hurry toward the next milestone. They simply are – magnificent, steady, and completely present in whatever season they’re experiencing.

    Sitting on that cabin porch each morning, I realized I’d been treating my life like a race instead of a journey. Always focused on the next task, the next goal, the next thing that needed to be accomplished. The mountains were showing me a different way – the beauty of being fully present in the current season instead of rushing toward the next one.

    Vivid colored birds were also at the Butterfly Palace
    Local artisans offered incredible selections – these lifetime candles include a wick that paired with lamp oil endlessly burns (the one in the shop has been going for 42 years!)

    This wasn’t just a vacation revelation; it was a life shift. The cabin became a sanctuary where I could practice the lost art of simply being present. No agenda except to notice. No timeline except the natural rhythm of sunrise and sunset.

    ## **Bringing Mountain Time Home**

    The real test isn’t finding peace on a cabin porch in the Ozarks – it’s carrying that mountain rhythm back into everyday life. Those morning moments taught me that slowing down isn’t about changing my entire schedule; it’s about changing my relationship with time itself.

    I’m learning to create cabin porch moments in my regular life. Five minutes with coffee before the day begins. A pause to actually taste my lunch instead of skipping or staying busy through it. Choosing to notice the sunset instead of rushing past it toward the next task.

    The mountains reminded me that some of life’s most important moments happen in the spaces between – the unplanned conversations, the spontaneous detours, the decision to sit on the porch five minutes longer just because.

    *What would change if you gave yourself permission to move at mountain time, even for just a few moments each day?*

  • Slowing Down Is Hard to Do

    2 AM thoughts on learning to slow down and find joy in the process

    I thought today would start with sleeping in, but here I am at 2 AM, wide awake with my mind racing. There’s this familiar restless feeling I get when it seems like I’m running out of time on something important, you know?

    These past couple weeks have been intense around our house. We’ve been working on projects everywhere – gave our daughter’s room a complete surprise makeover while she was at camp, did this massive decluttering sweep of furniture that’s been accumulating for years, and finally started on those yard projects I’ve been daydreaming about for months.

    While I’m genuinely excited about all these changes, I kept finding myself caught between this overwhelming need to hurry and actually enjoying what I was doing. It was like I was stealing my own joy.

    The Countdown Pressure

    With our daughter away at camp for 18 days, I knew I wanted to get most of these projects done before she came home. She knew her room would be a different color, but had no idea about the new furniture and other surprises waiting. When she walked in yesterday, she seemed happy with the changes, but it was her reaction to the bathroom that got that classic excited squeal. That unexpected bonus ended up being the real winner.

    But here’s the thing – I had this finite timeline pressing on me. Eighteen days minus work and other commitments. Plus I’d rented this big unit for hauling away construction debris and old furniture, which had its own deadline. And somewhere in the middle of all this, I decided to start a garden with plants that needed to get in the ground soon or they’d die.

    Everything felt urgent. Everything felt like it had to happen now.

    My All-or-Nothing Problem

    This is totally my pattern – I get excited about something and dive in headfirst. Usually I can keep up the momentum long enough to push through to the end, or at least muscle through that “I don’t want to do this anymore” phase until it’s done. My perfectionist brain takes over, which creates this weird internal tension, but things generally get finished fast… and then completely abandoned for months.

    Sound familiar to anyone else?

    I realized I was doing that thing we all do – telling myself “as soon as this is done, I can relax.” But I’ve made that promise to myself so many times and either broken it or been too wound up to actually relax when the time came. I’d just be looking around for the next thing that “had to get done.”

    The Garden Taught Me Something

    When I was planning the garden areas, I knew they’d bring such satisfaction once completed, plus clear out both physical and mental clutter. But the bigger vision – the full garden I was imagining – couldn’t possibly happen in 18 days. It would take time. Patience. Waiting for things to grow.

    Yet even knowing this, I kept feeling like I had to do everything immediately: put down all the weed barrier, buy every raised bed I’d eventually need, get all the soil and mulch in one massive shopping trip. Just thinking about it was exhausting.

    That’s when something clicked.

    What Actually Worked

    I started sorting my projects into two categories: “Time Crunch” (like my daughter’s room and that rental deadline) and “Ongoing” (like the garden and other long-term home improvements).

    When I caught myself trying to rush the ongoing stuff, I’d stop and ask: Why does this feel urgent right now?

    Most of the time, it was just habit. Sometimes there really was a piece that made sense to tackle alongside the time-sensitive work, but I’d set clear boundaries about when to stop.

    This simple shift changed everything.

    Learning to Love the Wait

    Taking things in smaller pieces actually makes everything more sustainable. It’s like having a daily reminder of where you’re headed without the crushing pressure to get there immediately. You build consistency, which builds resilience, and somehow there’s more room for actually enjoying the process.

    The 2 AM wake-ups still happen. That restless feeling when something feels unfinished still hits. But I’m learning that sometimes the most important thing you can do is slow down and trust that not everything has to happen on your timeline.

    I’m starting to see this shift help with other areas too – eating better, moving more, being more present with family, keeping less stuff around the house. Small, consistent changes instead of dramatic overhauls that burn me out.

    What I’m Learning About Joy

    Here’s what I’m figuring out: pushing hard to accomplish massive amounts in short bursts isn’t sustainable. It’s not healthy. And it definitely doesn’t leave room for joy in the process.

    I’m learning to make the waiting part of the plan. To trust that good things take time to develop, whether it’s a garden, a relationship, a skill, or just a more peaceful way of living.

    The projects will get done. Maybe not all at once, maybe not on my original timeline, but they’ll get done. And maybe, if I’m patient with the process, I’ll actually enjoy getting there.

    Anyone else struggle with the “everything must happen now” feeling? I’d love to hear how you’ve learned to slow down and find joy in the process.

  • A Trip Into the Garden

    Some of my most treasured childhood memories are painted in the vibrant colors of my Opa’s hillside garden. This wasn’t just any garden—it was a masterpiece that took years to create, transforming a steep slope into what felt like my own personal Disneyland. 😂

    Picture this: winding paths that led you through completely different worlds. One moment you’d be wandering through an English countryside section, complete with thistle and ivy. Turn a corner, and you’d discover a tranquil pond he’d built himself, complete with aquatic plants and fish. Keep exploring, and you’d find yourself under Italian-style grape arbors, their wooden supports heavy with cascading vines.

    But here’s the secret every kid knew—if you could sneak away from the adults and get there first, the tiny wild strawberries hidden in another section were pure summer magic. Each area had its own personality, separated by those meandering paths that would dip and climb through terraced sections. Standing at the garden’s edge, you could look back and see the whole property: the house, workshop, and wood storage—each its own little adventure waiting to happen.

    Those summer visits didn’t just shape my love for gardening; they planted seeds (pun intended!) for how I’d later approach the projects my parents tackled when we moved to Texas.

    Now, I’ll be honest—most of my gardening attempts have followed the same pattern: explosive enthusiasm in spring, followed by a quick surrender when Texas summer heat becomes unbearable. But something shifted these past couple years as my focus moved from life’s constant hustle to embracing the pause.

    And this year? We’re off to an incredible start.

    The start of the new garden area

    Instead of rushing headfirst into my full garden vision (because let’s be real, that’s usually where I burn out), I’m taking my time. What a blessing this extra rain and cooler weather has been! As we continue adding to the beds, I’m watching the space grow and evolve naturally—just like Opa’s garden did.

    Heavy rain over the last few days – thank you Lord for this blessing 🧡

    I can already see it in my mind: vegetables growing to nourish our family, friends, and neighbors. Flowers blooming to support our pollinators and inspire new artwork. A peaceful retreat where I can start and end each day with gratitude, away from the world’s noise.

    The best part? This is just the beginning. I can’t wait to share this journey with you and watch this space transform over time—one thoughtful addition at a time.

    With a grateful heart,

    Samantha

  • Finding My Voice Through Music and Faith

    Growing up as a military kid meant my musical foundation developed in patches across different bases and countries. Not every school had a dedicated choir program, but music found me anyway—through radio waves and the carefully curated cassette tapes we carried from station to station.

    I still smile remembering the agony of choosing songs for my dad to record onto those precious tapes. The pressure of selecting a “favorite” felt impossible (honestly, how can anyone pick just one?), and my final playlist probably mirrored everyone else’s. But that’s how we discover ourselves, isn’t it? Through the familiar before we find our unique voice.

    Music remains one of my most trusted companions, especially when words fail me. There’s something magical about how lyrics become poetry and melodies amplify the emotional depths of our experiences—the soaring highs and tender lows that make us human.

    Songs Speaking to My Heart This Week:

    • Burn the Ships – For King & Country
    • I Believe in Love – Barlow Girl
    • Counting My Blessings – Seph Schlueter
    • Against the Tide (The Captain’s Tarantella) – Sail North

    Yes, that last one’s a sea shanty—because who doesn’t love a good nautical adventure song? Each of these has stirred something different in my spirit recently.

    “Burn the Ships” reminds me not to cling to the past out of fear. Sometimes we need to cut off our escape routes to truly move forward in faith, trusting that God walks with us into the unknown.

    “I Believe in Love” speaks to those moments when I can’t see God’s presence but know He’s there—like feeling the wind without seeing it, His love surrounds us even in our blindest moments.

    “Counting My Blessings” captures something beautiful: “I’ll keep counting my blessings, knowing I can’t count that high.” When we pause to notice the intricate details of God’s gifts, we realize gratitude could be a full-time job. “I run out of numbers before I can thank you for everything.”

    “Against the Tide” connects to my favorite scripture, Romans 12:2: “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” The world’s current constantly pushes us toward conformity, but we’re called to sail against that tide—to be transformed into Christ’s image. While I’m not sure about Jesus as a pirate captain, the adventurous imagery has sparked some exciting painting ideas outside my usual scope!

    Tonight’s Return to Live Streaming

    Speaking of creative adventures, we’re back tonight! This evening’s stream will be shorter and different as we settle back into rhythm. With Aspen at camp and some major studio reorganizing happening, I’m excited to share project updates and future plans that I’ll be exploring here on the blog.

    I’ve restarted my garden and we’re working on a studio reset—perfect timing to share some tips if you’re also in a season of refresh and renewal.

    Join me tonight at 7 PM CST on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SCSDesignsCo

    This will be a shorter “hello and catch-up” session. We’ll dive back into live creating on June 12th!

    So, take a moment to quiet your breath and focus your mind.

    God, we thank you for the beautiful music you inspire artists to create and share that in turn inspires and connects us closer to you. We thank you for another day to make choices and to share your love with others, choosing to show patience, kindness, and grace even when we get frustrated or feel like we’re in a hurry. Father, we’re thankful for the opportunity to connect in different ways, including digitally, and ask for your guidance and protection that week as we go through our days. Amen.

    Friends — what songs are inspiring you? What lyrics keep coming to mind lately? Please share them in the comments below.

    Grace + peace,

    Samantha