I live in the Deep South. Not by choice, trust me. My family, for some reason not logical to me, settled here over 20 years ago. It may have to do with my deeply southern, Alabama born and raised Mama. While I love her food and the polite genteel southern culture, I do not like living here.

I say “summah” because it is already so hot, you cannot help but drawl when you speak. My northern Midwest twang still rises up occasionally, and I speak very fast – the remnants of my years in more northern climes. I have adapted into occasional drawls, though, to blend in with the y’alls that sprinkle my speech.

It’s 95 degrees in the shade today, y’all-and it sure feels like summah.

You better have a screen for your car windshield, or you will be panting for 15 minutes while you sweat through your church clothes, waiting for the car to blast AC through the oven-hot temperatures.

Humidity is so thick right now that you are coated with moisture on every inch of exposed skin the moment you walk outside.

Cockroaches are boldly running around everywhere – and, boys and girls, these are the huge pests colloquially known as “palmetto bugs”, which is southern for flying cockroaches. A nightmare come true.

Then there are the “no see-ums”, invisible tiny pests that bite without your knowledge as you innocently sit on your porch, leaving large angry whelps on your arms and legs. If you dodge them, don’t worry – there are plenty of mosquitoes to continue the attack.

Did I tell you about the gnats? You can just be walking your dog down the street, trying to breathe in the thick fetid air, and suddenly you are engulfed in a cloud of tiny insects, who quickly work to stick to your sweaty neck and face. You open your mouth at your own peril.

You’ll need to take a shower just to recover from a short walk outside.

There are those who say you get used to the humidity. People like my Mama, who grew up in the Deep South and didn’t have such luxuries as air conditioning. My dear Mama, who keeps her condo so warm I need a fan and a glass of cold tea just to be comfortable.

Summah. Twenty years in, I still cannot handle the humidity. The bugs. The sudden torrential storms.

It’s never been my favorite season, but down here in the Deep South, it’s downright unbearable.

What is your dream as a parent? What are your dreams for your children?

Success? Riches? Fame?

None of the above.

I raised my children as a single parent for most of their formative years. My goal was for them to be Christ followers -that I would somehow manage, despite my imperfect life and multitude of flaws, to point them to Christ. That they would each decide to serve Him.

In putting Christ first in their life, seeing things through His eyes, they would be compassionate people. Caring. Servant leaders.

Bottom line, I wanted to raise good people.

Selfless, not selfish. Other-centered, not self centered.

Outside of faith in God and being daily disciples, I don’t know how this is possible.

Only God can get our eyes off ourselves. Only God can heal the deep wounds that happened in a less than ideal childhood.

Only God.

Ahh, the beginning of a new month. A new day!

Every day is a chance to start anew, and this month is going to mark the beginning of a new journey. Stay tuned, as the old TV shows would say.

Today also marks the beginning of the Atlantic Hurricane season.

Being prepared is the key – having a plan on where you will go if you need to evacuate, making sure you have supplies to see you through at home if you lose power,etc.

Storms will always come and go in our lives. Someone once said you are either entering a storm, in the middle of a storm, or coming out of a storm.

I’m coming out, and the sky is clearing already.  My future is shining on the horizon, and I am pushing aside the debris.  I’m picking up the pieces, and putting things in order.  Preparation is key, so I’m going to begin again today.

Having a positive outlook. Making healthy choices. Moving toward my new goal, step by step.

Welcome, June!

When I was a child, I was very creative. I thrived in environments where I could express myself. As a young girl with ADD, I would fashion worlds in my mind, going back to each fictional location as an escape from my school, my home…my life.

In adolescence, my imagination expressed itself artistically as well. Through painting, sketching, and ceramics, I worked out my thoughts visually. Many pieces were award winning, much to my surprise – I was shocked to be recognized for my intrinsic love of creativity.

High school was a flourishing of many things – writing, art, music, acting. Art was the defining characteristic most people associated me with.

I was thrilled to win state and national recognition, and be published in a book and national publications at age 16. My soul was content.

Then – life.

My passion for the arts and writing was raging still, but there were bills to pay, and mouths to feed.

I became a registered nurse. I spent over 20 years in labor and delivery and critical care. I loved my job, and poured myself into it.

When I grew up, I wanted to be a writer. An artist.

I grew up.

It’s time.

I’m excited to see what happens next…

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton