As June winds down and summer stretches long before us, there’s a gentle whisper from God rising above the noise:
“Daughter, you don’t have to wait for the perfect moment to flourish.
You can thrive right here, right now, because I am with you.”
It’s easy to think flourishing will come later, once the kids are older, the job is better, the pain is healed, the dream is fulfilled. But God’s Word reminds us that every season has a purpose. Even the slow ones. Even the confusing ones. Even the ones we didn’t choose.
Down here in Louisiana, we know better than to rush the season. You don’t plant okra in winter, and you don’t pull your grandmother’s gumbo off the stove before it’s ready. Timing matters. So does patience.
Just like the bayou needs both sunshine and storms to stay alive, your soul needs time to rest, grow, and bloom at God’s pace, not the world’s.
Let’s stop waiting for “someday” and start seeing the beauty in today.
Flourishing doesn’t always mean more—it often means deep roots, not flashy fruit.
It looks like:
Showing up with grace, even when life feels ordinary
Holding joy and sorrow in the same breath and still choosing hope
Noticing the good that’s already growing around you
Trusting that the “slow” season isn’t wasted, it’s sacred
In the South, folks often say “bloom where you’re planted,” and there’s wisdom in that old phrase. Flourishing isn’t about the perfect soil—it’s about deep roots in God's truth.
Sometimes you find your bloom in unexpected places:
On a sun-drenched porch with an old hymnal in your lap
In a whispered prayer while washing dishes
In a yes to today, even if tomorrow’s uncertain
Flourishing isn’t forced. It’s faithful.
Lord, help me trust that where You’ve placed me is not an accident.
Help me see the beauty in this moment, and believe that even now, You are doing something new.
Let me bloom in Your timing, not mine. Amen.
Reflect: What season are you in right now, growing, waiting, grieving, celebrating? Write it down. Acknowledge it.
Ask God to show you one small way to thrive in this exact place. Not once it’s easier, but now.
Create space for peace and purpose this week, whether it’s 10 minutes in prayer, a walk outside, or a night without distraction.
Flourishing doesn’t require perfection, it requires presence.
God sees you where you are. He’s working beneath the surface, even when you feel stuck.
So breathe deep, sis.
You’re not behind. You’re right on time.
And this season? It’s sacred ground.
Blessings,
Liz
We’re halfway through June, and if you're anything like me, the days are starting to blur together a little, sunlight stretching longer, calendars filling up, and summer expectations buzzing in the background. But here in Week 3 of our Freedom to Flourish series, we’re pausing to receive a different kind of invitation:
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart,
and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
— Matthew 11:28–30
Jesus doesn’t just offer forgiveness or guidance. He offers rest. Real, soul-deep rest.
We may not be carrying oxen yokes or hauling water from a well like generations before us, but we are carrying invisible burdens:
A mind that won’t stop racing
Guilt for resting too long
The pressure to be everything for everyone
Anxiety about the future
Weariness from doing good but feeling unseen
Even when the sun is shining and summer looks “easy,” the soul can still be tired. And that’s where Jesus meets us, not with more tasks, but with rest.
In our fast-paced world, rest can feel like a luxury, or even laziness. But in God’s Kingdom, rest is holy.
It’s where we hear His voice clearer.
It’s where healing happens.
It’s where joy grows.
Jesus invites us to exchange the heavy loads we weren’t meant to carry for something lighter. Not because life will be easy, but because He’s carrying it with us.
Down here in Louisiana, we know the power of slowing down. Whether it’s a Sunday porch swing, a long conversation over a our faviorate meal, or a lazy drive down a country road with zydeco humming on the radio, there’s an art to stillness.
Maybe you can remember watching your aunt cut okra in the shade, no rush at all. Or your grandmother kneading dough in silence before the sun rose. They weren't just passing time; they were resting with purpose. That kind of rest, rooted in presence, teaches you how to breathe again.
This summer, let’s recapture that sacred rhythm.
Taking a real Sabbath, turning off the noise and tuning into God
Saying no to what overwhelms your spirit
Taking a walk, a nap, or a deep breath without guilt
Worshiping not out of duty but delight
Trusting that rest isn’t laziness, t’s obedience
Create a moment of intentional stillness. Maybe it’s 15 minutes in the morning, a slow walk without your phone, or a worship song on repeat. Let your heart be quiet enough to hear Him.
Name one burden you’ve been carrying alone. Ask Jesus to carry it with you.
Plan one small act of joy this week, something that refreshes your soul, no matter how simple.
Beloved, you weren’t made to run on empty.
You were created to walk with Jesus, light, unburdened, and whole.
Let Him quiet your soul, renew your strength, and refresh your joy.
This week, make space for rest, not as an afterthought, but as a holy priority.
Lay it down. Breathe it in.
Let God carry the heavy, and let your heart flourish light.
Blessings,
Liz
Summer is in full swing, and with it comes that sense of lightness we crave; less hustle, more sunlight, and hopefully, more moments to simply be. As we continue our Freedom to Flourish series, we’re leaning into a truth that changes everything:
You are already free in Christ.
Not kind-of-free.
Not almost free.
Free indeed.
“So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.”
— John 8:36
“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.”
— Galatians 5:1
That freedom isn’t earned through perfection. It’s received through grace.
Even though Christ has set us free, many of us are still walking around bound by expectations, pressure, or wounds we’ve never named. Some of the things we carry look like:
Shame from past mistakes
Fear of not measuring up
People-pleasing that leaves us drained
Legalism that tells us we have to earn God’s love
The lie that we are only as valuable as our performance
These chains may be invisible, but they’re heavy. And they’re not from God. Freedom in Christ means you’re not defined by what you've done, what others expect, or what you fear. You are defined by grace.
Jesus didn’t die so we could stay stuck in shame or burn out trying to be enough. He died and rose again to offer us a life of peace, rest, and holy confidence. And walking in that freedom starts with believing it’s yours.
Say it out loud:
I am free because Christ set me free.
I don’t have to prove my worth.
I am loved, held, and chosen, just as I am.
Down here in Louisiana, we know something about showing up without pretense. When family gathers, you come as you are; no need to impress. The pot’s already on, the porch is already open, and there's room for you at the table.
That’s the kind of freedom God offers. A space to belong, no striving required. I’ve watched women in our Creole community live this out with quiet strength, letting go of others’ opinions and walking with heads held high, knowing they are loved by God. That kind of freedom? It’s generational. It’s healing. It’s holy.
Resting in who God says you are
Saying no without guilt
Letting go of what others think
Receiving love without trying to earn it
Laughing freely, worshiping loudly, and living lightly
Take 10 minutes of quiet time this week and ask God to show you anything that’s keeping you from living free.
Write it down: What mindset, fear, or false belief do you need to release?
Declare freedom: Find a scripture (like John 8:36 or Galatians 5:1) and speak it over yourself.
Replace the lie: Remind yourself of the truth, you are free indeed.
Beloved, you don’t have to earn your freedom. It’s already been given.
So shake off what’s not yours to carry.
Lay down the pressure to perform.
Let God’s grace wash over your striving.
This week, stand tall in your freedom.
Let joy rise up. Let peace settle in.
Let the truth of who you are in Christ set your soul dancing.
You’re not just free, you’re free indeed.
Blessings,
Liz
June has arrived with its warm breezes, slower rhythms, and an invitation to breathe a little deeper. And as we lean into the first message in our Freedom to Flourish series, we’re starting with something we all need from time to time: letting go.
Letting go isn’t weakness, it’s wisdom. It’s the courage to release what’s heavy, what’s worn out, what’s no longer aligned with who God is calling you to be.
“Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”
— Hebrews 12:1
God has a purpose for you in this season, but you can’t run freely if you’re weighed down by burdens you were never meant to carry.
Sometimes we carry emotional and spiritual clutter without even realizing it. Things like:
Old guilt that Jesus already forgave
Bitterness we’ve never fully released
Unrealistic expectations of ourselves
Pressure to be strong all the time
Fear of disappointing others
Shame that whispers we're not enough
These things take up space in our hearts and slow us down. They rob us of joy, rest, and peace. And most of the time, they don’t come from God; they come from the world, the enemy, or even our inner critic.
But the truth is this: you can’t flourish while carrying what’s meant to be laid down.
Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, it means trusting God to hold what you no longer can.
“Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you...”
— Psalm 55:22
When we release something to God, we’re not losing control, we’re gaining peace. We’re saying, “Lord, I trust You more than I trust my own grasp.”
This week, take inventory of what’s been taking up space in your heart. What thought, expectation, or burden has been weighing you down? Bring it to the Lord in prayer, and ask Him to help you release it.
In Louisiana, especially in our Creole culture, we know the beauty of tradition. But we also know when it’s time to shake off what’s too heavy. I’ve seen women in my life gracefully lay down pride, pain, and pressure, and in its place, rise up with strength and freedom.
They didn’t pretend to have it all together. They brought their burdens to the altar, to the porch, or to the prayer circle, and left lighter. That kind of freedom? It’s holy. And it’s available to you too.
Choosing rest over hustle
Releasing perfection and embracing grace
Forgiving others and yourself
Saying no to what drains your spirit
Making space for what matters most
Identify one thing that no longer serves your soul, an old mindset, a habit, or a lie you’ve believed.
Write it down. Pray over it. And symbolically lay it at God’s feet.
Replace it with truth, find a scripture that reminds you who you are in Christ.
You don’t have to carry it anymore.
God is inviting you to lay it down, so you can rise up free, full, and flourishing.
Let this be the season you lighten the load.
Let this be the moment you breathe again.
Let it go, and let God take it from here.
You’re not losing anything. You’re making space for peace.
Blessings,
Liz