Tag: grow season

Image

Jesus Took A Break (And So Can You)

Posted in cancer, faith, food, God, health, inspiration, love, money, relationships, selfhelp, workTagged , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment


I noticed it, and it wouldn’t let me go.

Jesus took a break.

Not because He was lazy.
Not because the need was gone.
Not because the work was finished.

But because He knew when to pour Himself out —
and when to be filled again by the Father.

He stepped away while people still needed Him.
He withdrew while expectations still waited.
He rested even though the world would have gladly kept pulling.

“But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.”
— Luke 5:16

(Jesus withdrew to quiet places.
I withdraw to the couch and pretend I’m just “thinking.”)

Last night my body kept waking me up like it was tapping my shoulder saying,
Hey. We’re done pretending.

Every hour on the hour.
No deep rest. No drifting off.

Thoughts of what I needed to do today were keeping me awake, while those same thoughts were making me tired.


But, yet, there was a quiet insistence that something holy was being ignored.

(Jesus rested.
I call it a “strategic pause,” because the word nap feels too optimistic.)

Here is the truth tired women rarely hear out loud:

Rest is not quitting.
Pausing is not disobedience.
Taking a break is not a lack of faith.

Sometimes it is the most faithful thing you can do.

Jesus didn’t withdraw because He didn’t care.
He withdrew because He did — because love that lasts must return to its Source.

(Jesus took a break.
I took one too once — accidentally, in the driveway, with the car still running.)

Today I will not apologize for being tired.
I will not spiritualize exhaustion.
I will not confuse availability with holiness.

I will follow Jesus —
even if that means following Him somewhere quiet.

And if all I manage today is showing up gently,
that will be enough.

Because Jesus took a break.
And somehow… that sets me free. 

So if you can’t find me today, I am on the couch with Jesus. Wake Him and ask permission to wake me.

Love, Chelle

Footstep Notes:
Luke 5:16; Mark 1:35; Matthew 14:23

Image

Thinning Is Not Killing (Even Though It Felt Like It)

Posted in christmas, faith, food, God, health, inspiration, love, money, relationships, selfhelp, UncategorizedTagged , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

I stood in my greenhouse clutching scissors like I was about to commit a felony.
These weren’t plants.
These were my plant babies.
I grew them.
I watered them.
I whispered encouragement like a slightly unhinged garden aunt.
And now I was being told they were “too crowded.”


Excuse me???
They looked happy.
Thriving.
Living their best leafy lives.
But apparently, love without boundaries leads to chaos.
Who knew.


The word thinning showed up—
and my heart heard destruction.
Because when you’re wired like me,
making room feels an awful lot like abandonment.


I mean, how do you explain to a perfectly healthy kale plant
that it’s not being rejected—
it’s just being relocated, harvested early, or “released into purpose”?


I felt like I was ruining everything.
Until I realized…
nothing was being wasted.
Some plants were transplanted.
Some were harvested and nourished something immediately.


And the ones left behind?
They finally had space to become what they were always meant to be.
That’s when it hit me.
Pruning doesn’t change who we are.
It reveals it.
God isn’t cutting us down—


He’s cutting away what keeps us from becoming strong, rooted, and fruitful.
Not every removal is punishment.
Not every loss is failure.
Some things leave so we can finally grow into ourselves.


“Every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” — John 15:2


Pruning feels personal when you’re emotionally attached to the leaves.
But it’s the very thing that shapes the harvest.
Thinning is not killing.
It’s the painful, purposeful process of becoming.


And if I’m honest…
I still apologized to my kale,
needed a moment of silence,
and may require counseling before the next round of thinning.


Because apparently God and gardening are both committed
to making us who we’re supposed to be—
even when we’re dramatic about it.


With love, Chelle,

Image

Before Coffee,  Before Control

Posted in cancer, faith, God, health, inspiration, love, money, relationships, selfhelp, Uncategorized, workTagged , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

This wasn’t a quiet, reflective night moment.
This was a stressed 3 a.m. morning, when sleep clocks out early and your brain clocks in loud — with opinions.

I wasn’t trying to hear from God.
I was trying to finish a work  email before coffee, which already tells you I was operating without full emotional supervision.

I kept shortening it.
Not because I didn’t know what I wanted to say — but because I know my boss. I know there may still be a meeting. I know she’ll ultimately direct and take charge. So I trimmed. Simplified. Took out the pre-explaining and the imaginary rebuttals. I said what needed to be said and stopped trying to manage the outcome.

And somewhere between rereading sentences and realizing I was too tired to argue with myself, it landed:

This is exactly how we treat God.

We make plans — good ones — and then we hover.
We explain too much.
We brace for redirection.
We add footnotes to obedience.

Not because we don’t trust Him —
but because we really like being on the steering committee.

Meanwhile, God has already given us the playback in His Word.

He’s already shown us how authority works.
How obedience works.
How trust works.

We do our part.
We speak honestly.
We move wisely.
And then we let go — preferably before caffeine convinces us we should take over.

“In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.” – Proverbs 16:9

Not might.
Not if He agrees.
He does.

This morning reminded me that obedience isn’t about directing God — it’s about participating with Him. Doing what’s mine to do without trying to edit the ending.

I don’t need to manage God the way I manage emails.
I don’t need to anticipate His response.
And I definitely don’t need to rewrite His plan before coffee.

Sometimes the most faithful thing we can do is hit send, make the coffee, and trust God with the meeting that follows.

Prayer
Lord, help me do my part without trying to control Yours. Teach me to trust You with the outcome, even before the coffee kicks in.
Order my steps, steady my heart, and remind me that You’re already ahead of me.
Amen.

Love, Chelle

Image

Will & Grace

Posted in cancer, faith, food, God, health, inspiration, love, money, relationships, selfhelp, UncategorizedTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

I woke up smiling this morning.
Not because everything is fixed.
Not because the season has suddenly gotten easier.
But because I was reminded—before my feet even hit the floor—that God still speaks.


An old friend texted me a few days ago wanting to send me a birthday gift. A cash offering. She said it might be late and she wasn’t sure how much.


I immediately told her no.


Not because I didn’t need it—but because I know her story. I know her struggles.
I didn’t want her putting herself out for me.
My heart was in the right place… or so I thought.


She gently stopped me and said, “God told me to sow—and I won’t interfere with God talking to me.”


Well then.
Message received. Loud and clear.


Here’s the part I hadn’t said out loud to anyone:
With a season of   illness, deaths, job issues, a roof repair, and the bills that follow close behind, one of the quiet things I let go of was me.
Specifically—my hair.
Long twist locs reduced to a ponytail (which is no small feat), creative parting, strategic styling,
and gray hairs hollering, “Didn’t you just get old?”


I was debating whether to cancel my usual four-hour appointment this weekend—or worse, swipe a credit card while praying over the interest rate.


But look at God.


With exactly what she sent, the Old Lady Rescue will be in full effect.
No debt. No guilt. Just provision—with intention.


But the real miracle wasn’t the money.


“Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,” says the Lord Almighty. (Zechariah 4:6 (NIV)


It was confirmation—on both sides—that God still speaks.
And He doesn’t just speak to pastors, prophets, or people with microphones.
He speaks to friends.
To women who listen.
To hearts that say yes before they fully understand why.


I was reminded this morning that God provides for all things.
Even the things we label as “extra.”
Even Saturday-morning self-care.
Even hair.


And I was reminded of something else:
sometimes our well-meaning “no” gets in the way of someone else’s obedience.


I thought I was protecting her.
Instead, I would’ve robbed us both—
her of the joy of obedience,
and me of the grace God had already assigned.


“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.”  John 10:27 (NIV)


There’s a line from the old sitcom Will & Grace that came rushing back to me this morning.
One character is frustrated, asking why God doesn’t talk anymore.
Another replies:
“When having conversations with God, make sure you’re not doing all the talking.”


Lesson learned.


Sometimes God’s answer sounds like a text message.
Sometimes provision looks like hair being restored before pride is.
And sometimes Grace shows up laughing—right alongside gratitude, when we submit to His Will.


Today, I’m thankful.
Not just for the gift—but for the reminder to listen…
and not interfere when God speaks.


Love, Chelle


PS.
A BIG  thank you to my Christmas music loving,  sugary named, millionaire by multiplication, friend who knows how to hear God !!!

Image

Grossly Underqualified. Still Expecting A Harvest

Posted in cancer, faith, food, God, health, inspiration, love, relationships, selfhelp, UncategorizedTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

I still don’t know what I’m doing.
The sweet potato in the jar in my window  can confirm it.

I stood it upright like a microphone instead of laying it down like a seed. Slips are forming anyway—which feels both rude and deeply grace-filled.

By every measurable standard, I am grossly underqualified for this harvest. I don’t garden with confidence — I garden with Google and apologies. I whisper encouragement to my plants like they’re on a faith journey too.

And yet… green keeps showing up.

Scripture says, “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.”
— Zechariah 4:10

Apparently, this applies to gardeners too.

The sweet potato didn’t ask for my credentials.
It didn’t wait for me to feel confident.
It just responded to warmth, light, and the fact that I didn’t give up on it.

That feels uncomfortably familiar.

God has never waited for my expertise before growing something in my care. He responds to availability, not mastery. To people who stay put long enough for growth to decide it’s safe.

I keep expecting God to say, “You’re not ready for this yet.”
Instead, He keeps saying, “Watch.”

Watch what grows when you stop over-correcting.
Watch what happens when you don’t uproot yourself every time doubt shows up.
Watch what slips free when the season is right.

Turns out God grows things even when the gardener is winging it.

I may be underqualified.
But I’m determined.
And apparently… that’s enough for a harvest.

Love, Chelle