Life These Days...

Sometimes I wake up in the morning, roll over, and catch myself smiling. Not because life is perfect, but because life is peaceful. That kind of peace used to feel out of reach for me, and now it’s something I thank God for every single day. These days, it’s just me and my husband in our beautiful new home, making memories one moment at a time.

Days start quietly making coffee and watching the sun come up together. Cooking is therapeutic for me. My husband often watches while I wander through the kitchen, pulling things from the fridge and pantry, letting my creativity spill out into whatever meal comes together. It’s funny, because I never thought my quirky way of cooking would be something someone could love, but he does. He encourages it—laughing when I throw together odd ingredients and cheering me on as if I’ve just created something gourmet. The little things—his steady presence, his hand slipping into mine when I’m anxious, the quiet prayers we share when life feels heavy—those are what make this marriage feel like home. Our marriage isn’t about grand gestures; it’s about the way he holds my hand when I’m anxious, or the way we pray together when life feels uncertain. These are the moments that heal me. After everything I’ve been through, I don’t take the gift of a supportive, steady partner lightly.

My kids are both thriving in their own ways, and I couldn’t be prouder. My daughter is in college, strong and independent, building friendships and traveling to new places. I love watching her step into her 20s with such confidence, and I find myself living vicariously through her adventures, soaking up every picture and story she shares. My son is finishing his senior year, and he never ceases to amaze me with his creativity and wit. His humor is quick and clever, the kind that catches me off guard and makes me laugh out loud even through a phone screen. Our relationship—my relationship with both of them—has been restored in ways that only God could have orchestrated. There was a time I feared I’d lost their trust for good, but grace has a way of rewriting stories. Now, I treasure our FaceTime calls, holding onto every laugh, every update, and every “I love you.”

Faith is what binds it all together for me. It’s the quiet anchor when old fears creep in, the strength that reminds me to pause and pray, and the peace that shows up right in the middle of chaos. I’ve learned to trust God in the small moments, and I see His fingerprints all over the healing in my life.

Family, too, feels like it has taken on a new sweetness. I’ve stepped into the role of “fun aunt,” and I love it—being the one who shows up, who laughs, and who makes sure my nieces and nephews know I’ll always be there. With my parents and siblings, I’ve made it a priority to be present and nurture the relationships that matter most. We’ve had our share of struggles, but sitting around the table, sharing a meal or just catching up on life, reminds me that love always finds its way back.

Life these days isn’t about grand gestures or perfect moments. It’s about the little things—the smell of coffee in the morning, the sound of laughter on a FaceTime call, the comfort of family gathered together, and the warmth of a hand held when I need it most. These are the gifts I once thought I might never have. Now, living in them every day, I know this for certain: life after the storm is not only possible, it’s beautiful.