Everything in life has its season to emerge, to flourish, and to bear fruit. Those who plant always carry the expectation of a good harvest, and along the way, they learn the art of patience and emotional balance. They understand that growth requires space, steady dedication, work from dawn to dusk, and trust the process, learn to wait, have faith, which quietly performs the miracle of birth until the day of harvest arrives. To reap is to complete a task with honor. It is the natural reward for those who uses time wisely to care for what is theirs to do—work that brings both purpose and pleasure. As the say goes: “Sow and create, and joy will be yours.” And as the day springs to life, brimming with promises calling us to bathe in the warmth and radiance of tomorrow, may it become as beautiful and joyous as we hope. .
I am the woman who still looks at the sky as if it were a canvas painted just for me—bold, impossible, alive with a grandeur that refuses to be ignored. While the world claws at my sleeves, demanding hurry and hardness, I tilt my head back and dare the heavens to speak. And they do. In streaks of fire at dusk, in bruised storm clouds gathering like ancient gods, in the quiet blue that stretches so wide it threatens to break my heart open. I stand beneath that vastness and feel something rise in me—something untamed, something unashamed. The sky does not ask me to shrink. It does not measure me, or question the weight I carry. It simply opens, limitless, and in its openness I remember the part of myself that refuses to be small. I am my parent’s child, your friendly neighborhood merry andrew.
Today I live the memories of yesterday, dreaming today of tomorrow, carrying forward everything I learned from the people, once strangers, now friends, who extended their graces, shaped me and made me who I am. I move through the present shaped by every moment that came before me—by kindness offered, lessons learned the hard way and phrases wrotten, love given freely, and love lost. Each experience left a mark, and together they form the foundation I stand on now.
I believe God is present in every step of my journey, guiding me through moments I understood and moments I didn’t. Nothing is wasted—every lesson, every trial, every blessing is part of His greater plan for my life, His blessings.
I walk in the present with gratitude, knowing I am sustained by His grace and strengthened by the prayers, love, and wisdom of those He placed along my path. I honor the past not by staying there, but by allowing it to guide me as I grow, reminding me where I came from and why I keep going. It is a dance.
It has been an interesting few days—one of those where you feel like reaching out to Mother Teresa to ask if she had a direct line to the Man Upstairs. I tried… but she didn’t answer, ignored me like a polar bear in the artic—perhaps, if I only played her favorite song she would at least wink at me.
As I look toward tomorrow, I do so with gratitude and intention, knowing that who I become next will be built from everything I have carried forward, and everything I choose to believe in. I place my trust in Him, swear on my pinky, confident that He goes before me, cleaning all the road debries, parking all the cars, emptying the sidewalks and pitiful roadmarks, preparing what I cannot yet see and sitting on the driver’s seat, shaping me into who He created me to be. That is faith, my friend, with all its extended warranties.
ludlum drive 
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