Coming Home to Dixie

The butterfly fluttered away, and we stood there quietly, watching it disappear into the blooms. It felt like a small sign—gentle but unmistakable—that even when life feels overwhelming, there is grace in the ordinary, and beauty often arrives just when we need it most.

That’s what this week has been—a mix of chaos and comfort, fatigue and awe. With Jim still in California, the days are long and the demands constant. Between school drop-offs and pickups, tending to the animals, managing work and meals and bedtime routines, there have been more moments than I care to admit when I’ve sat down with tears in my eyes. But then something always seems to come—a sunrise, a zinnia field, a kind smile at church—to pull me gently back up again.

And I realize… this is exactly the season I prayed for. A season of growth. A season of roots.

✝️ Returning to Church After 20 Years

We drove down the long country road surrounded by trees reaching for the sky. A mixture of excitement and nerves filled the car as we approached the church. Childhood memories of sitting on hard wooden pews, singing from hardback hymnals while we fanned ourselves in the sweltering heat, came to my mind as I parked and walked towards the doors.

We were a few minutes late, and everyone was already inside except for an older man weathered by the sun.

“Howdy,” he said warmly, then smiled at Roslynn. “I like your boots.” She had chosen to wear her light pink cowboy boots with her blue floral dress.

Inside, the charming country church was just as I pictured it would be, and right away, I saw a familiar face—someone I hadn’t seen in 32 years. She joined us in our pew and later, we caught up on three decades of life. But as I sat there in that pew, I felt something deeper: peace.

I hadn’t been to a church service (other than Christmas Eve) in over 20 years.

The message was based on the book of Ruth and focused on Naomi returning home after many years. I thought to myself—that’s me. Coming home after all these years and letting myself be seen again, even after decades. And like Naomi in the book of Ruth, I feel that I’ve returned to be reminded of God’s goodness and His faithfulness.  I’ve returned full of the kind of life and faith that can only come after living away for a while.

🎉 Life is Sweet: Homecoming Parade

This past week was Homecoming at Siena’s school. The theme was “Life is Sweet,” and each class from 7th to 12th grade decorated a float. The local police and fire departments led the parade, and Roslynn stood on the school campus roadside with a giant bag, waiting for candy. Siena’s float didn’t disappoint—she made sure her class aimed straight for her little sister.

🐶 Cooper Comes Home

Just when I thought the week couldn’t get more full, we took in a new dog—Cooper, a 9-year-old miniature Dachshund. One of Siena’s teachers couldn’t keep him in her apartment, and her only choice was taking him to a shelter. I couldn’t bear that thought, so we welcomed him in.

Now, it feels like he’s always been here. He fits in so well, and the other animals accepted him immediately.

🌄 Sunrises, Valleys, and God’s Presence

Earlier this week, I stepped outside to take the dogs out and caught the most breathtaking sunrise. Our land slopes into a quiet valley behind our house, and that morning, a low fog hovered between the trees as the sun’s golden light broke through.

It was eerie and breathtaking all at once, and I just had to stop and take pictures.

There’s a little bench out there where I like to sit, pray, and reflect. It reminds me of what we’ve been given here—a chance to start fresh, build something meaningful, and raise our girls surrounded by beauty and truth.

🌸 Zinnias, Butterflies, and Reassurance

Yesterday, we visited a neighbor’s flower farm for opening day. Rows and rows of vibrant zinnias filled the field. We picked bundles of blooms—rosy pinks, buttery yellows, fiery oranges—until our hands were full.

Just as we were leaving, a large butterfly danced in front of us and landed on a bloom. We held our breath and whispered as we took pictures, feeling like the world had stilled just for us.

With Jim still in California, the girls have been testing my limits. There have been tears and yelling all around. But in that quiet moment, surrounded by zinnias and the grace of that lone butterfly, I was reminded:

God is near. He sees us. He will meet our needs.