It Felt Like Christmas

 It Might Not Be Christmas… But It Felt Like It

It might not be Christmas, but this past week I received a gift that felt every bit like it.

Several years ago, my mother-in-law had the most beautiful ceramic Christmas tree. It was solid white, standing about two feet tall, with tiny colored lights. It wasn’t just a decoration—it was a memory, a feeling, a piece of her home. Our daughters always admired that tree. I'm sure it was the simplicity, maybe the way it lit up a room, or maybe the love attached to it that attracted them to it. 

After she passed away, that tree was never found. It simply disappeared somewhere along the way, leaving behind only the memory of its glow.

A couple of weeks ago, Sam was scrolling through antique websites and came across a tree that looked so similar—only this one was green and not as tall. It wasn't one of the newer versions you can find in stores today, but a true antique, full of character and history. It was located in Oklahoma, and without hesitation, he bought it.

It arrived on Friday.

But instead of opening a box filled with nostalgia and joy, we were met with heartbreak. The tree had been shattered. The bottom was in what felt like a hundred tiny pieces, and the top was broken into larger fragments. Something so carefully chosen… so full of meaning… reduced to pieces in a cardboard box.

The seller was very kind and the good thing is...she had insurance, so she is refunding the money. And yes, I suppose these kinds of things happen, don’t they?

But oh… it still stings.

Because it wasn’t just about the tree.

It was about the thought behind it. The remembering and the searching.  It was about the hope of holding something again that felt connected to the past… to family… to moments that can never be replaced.

Maybe that’s where the real gift was all along.

Not in the ceramic.

Not in the lights.

Not even in the perfect condition of something fragile.

But in the heart behind it.

In a husband who remembered.

In the effort he made.

In the love wrapped up in that unexpected surprise.

Sometimes gifts don’t arrive the way we imagine. Sometimes they come broken, or delayed, or not at all. But if we look closely, we may find that the truest gift is still there—quietly tucked inside the intention.

It might not be Christmas…

…but love still showed up like it was.

Thank you Sam for your genuine love.

Shug...💛

Bottle Brush Plant

 Flowers don't question where they're planted.

They don't worry if the soil is too hard....or if the season will be too dry...or if they're growing in the "right" place.  They simply reach for the light. 

Out in our yard, the bottlebrush plant is one of those reminders... 

It's bright red blooms are showing up with a bold color of red and it is full of life right now.  

It's not one of those delicate  flowers....but it is strong, vibrant, and full of purpose.  

One thing that I love about this plant is that it "brings life in." 

Bees gather and the butterflies linger on it.  Hummingbirds come close, finding exactly what they need.  

It simply blooms and in doing so, it blesses everything around it. 

This is the kind of life that God calls us to. 

Not one spent comparing or questioning, but one rooted and trusting.  

Some season are quiet.

Some are Bold.

Some feel hidden.

Some are full and vibrant.  

ALL OF THEM MATTER!!

In our own lives, we need to just keep reaching for light.

When the time comes, we won't just bloom, we will bring life to others along the way.  

💛💛💛💛💛

About this plant....

1. This plant is named for it's shape. The blooms look like bottle brushes. 

2. It is native to Australia and it thrives in warm climates. 

3. This is a drought-tolerant.

4. Many of the varieties stay green year round. 

5. They bloom in Spring and sometimes in the Fall.  

6. They are loved by pollinators since it's blooms are filled with nectar. 

Hoping something beautiful finds each of you today...

Shug....💛

On the tailgate of a Whirlwind

 Hey Friends... Since Thursday morning, it feels like we’ve been hanging on to the tailgate of a whirlwind.

On Thursday, I headed out early to Dallas with Sam riding shotgun. The plan was simple—go to his doctor’s appointment and stay the night, because anyone who knows Dallas knows that after 4:00, traffic turns into something you pray your way through. But wouldn’t you know it, everything wrapped up earlier than expected—around 2:15.

And just like that, a new plan was born.

                             

Thursday evening was senior night for Mylee at the softball field, and there was no way we wanted to miss that. So we took a chance, said a little prayer over the highway, and headed home. We rolled into the parking lot at 5:30… with the presentation starting at 5:45.

Y’all… we made it. And it was worth every mile.

Friday morning came early again. I headed out to take care of a few things for Sam’s upcoming surgery. That evening, we went to the funeral home for visitation for our dear friend. And then we were up early this morning for the funeral.  Sam was a pallbearer and this service was pretty hard for him.  His friend Roy had the same liver disease that Sam has. 

What a beautiful service it was.  

The service was held outside at a venue, in front of a big lake.  COMPLETE PEACE filled the air all around us.  

The perfect place to hold a service for a man who loved the outdoors. 

I took this picture after the service and after the flowers had been taken to the cemetery..  

It’s been a lot.

We finally made it home around 2:40 this afternoon, and let me tell you—there’s something sacred about propping your feet up after days like this. The service was beautiful, held at a venue near a gorgeous lake… peaceful, meaningful, and just what the heart needed.

Now… about Sam’s eye.

His surgery is scheduled for Thursday at 11:00, and we’ll be staying the night since he has to see the doctor again early Friday morning. But before we get there, we’ve got one more trip to Dallas Monday to get additional measurements taken. It’s a good two-hour drive, and we’re hoping traffic shows us a little mercy this time.

The plans are to go in to the back of his eye and remove the lens that is stuck in the top of his eye.  The doctor will then repair the lip that holds the lens in place and insert a new lens.  Sounds painful, but he will no longer be feeling like he has a sticker bur in his left eye.  

I’m tired… and if you’ve made it this far, I imagine you might be a little tired too just reading it all.

Life has been full in every sense of the word—joy, sorrow, rushing, remembering, and showing up where it matters most.

Hoping to catch up with all of you soon, and I'm hoping to get back to my normal blogging without it being full of health issues.  My apologies for this.  You all have been so gracious to keep reading my blog post and for this I am thankful..  

Do what you love doing this weekend.  Whether it's watching "The Masters" ....  planting flowers ..... relaxing .... Or Whatever....just enjoy all that life has to offer.. 

Love,

Shug..💛

Be Back Soon

 

Today and Tomorrow

Sam and I will be in Dallas.

Hugs to all...

shug....💛