I work, and I struggle, and I try again, and again. I pinch pennies, I juggle hectic schedules of kids and work. I wonder if it will be enough. I worry it out, I wake in the middle of the night remembering those forgotten deadlines, appointments, and upcoming bills. And then, sometimes, I let go. And when I am least expecting it, life finds a way to bloom. 

Hanging above the ever present mountain of laundry, my summer purchased house plant has sat bloomless since mid-August. Despite care of watering, trimming, and loving, it has sat sadly looking out the window towards the birds and bees of the back yard. But this morning, after little to no care for a week and a half of soccer, dance, school and multiple work jobs, it has budded, with not one, but two blossums of hope and love and perseverance.

I wrote this blog beginning nearly two months ago, and never felt it was quite finished, nor where to go from this start. But looking today, I see it is complete in its brevity; and it is exactly what I need to hear again today. Life is hard. Life is complicated. We strive, we struggle. But like the story so often repeated in children’s books, we try again. “When I fall down, I pick myself up.” Life is change. Life is try. Life is another chance. Life is beautiful. 

Wishing you a day of some struggle, some love and some beautiful peace. 


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