In my young adult years, I had a hard time being seen for who I was.
I was always identified by where I grew up, whose sister I was or who I hung out with. Although I loved those aspects of myself, I was more.
As years went on, I had to make choices for my happiness. Choices often opposite of what I thought was expected of me. That meant becoming vulnerable to change and criticism.
That shift came with a yearning to experience more of what life had to offer. I began to look outside the walls put in place by others and myself to live a life God wanted me to live.
I began to capture these experiences in my writing. This became a way for me to purge, process and heal.
This blog is that journey and it continues. A journey full of love, tears, pride and lots of laughs.
Thanks for joining me.
The Legacy of Quilting
As each woman held up her hand-sewn quilt and shared their stories, I saw the gleam in their eye and pride in each piece of art and history. Listening to these stories, I imagined women in the community sewing quilts together at a table or outside in their yards – as was the tradition.
A quilt has become a piece of history, handed down from generation to generation, yet the craft of quilting has faded.