One of the most exciting events in my life thus far was purchasing my home in 2022. Being single, I was comfortable with apartment living…until I wasn’t. I felt like my one-bedroom was closing in on me. What made me most uncomfortable was the shift in my mindset! For the longest time, I settled for what was most comfortable, easy, and stable; I lived in the garments of my past. I allowed the culmination of my mistakes to dictate my mindset and narrate my life. I got to the place where, no matter how GOOD God had been to me, I didn’t think that I deserved the goodness of who He is and what He has for me.

It’s not even about material things, but even in that, I didn’t feel like I had a right to them. I’d kept hearing the same word about home ownership from different people and in different prophecies over the years. But this time, I latched on quickly and opened myself up to the thought! In a sense, I got comfortable with more, and with knowing that I can have whatever He allows me to have. I’d made it to the starting line of a journey of healing, allowing myself to believe and to be the very woman that God created me to be.

Now, that’s not to say that the entire process was without anxiety. I endured more sleepless nights and prayed harder than ever because counting the cost had your girl sweating! There came a point in the year-long process when I almost didn’t get my home, and it was completely out of my control. I had done everything I needed to do and, amazingly, had the money that I needed to close, but it almost didn’t happen because of someone else.

Fast forward through closing, moving in, and settling into my space… In my journey of healing, I found myself on a different street. Over the first few months, I bought plants, and plants were gifted to me because I wanted my space to be one of life, healing, love, and comfort. I tried—and failed—to maintain some plants. I actually took it personally because I wasn’t immediately perfect at it. (They are thriving now, but we’ll get back to that…)

While I was still deeply inhaling and exhaling the ‘new’ smell, reveling in the fact that this house was now mine, I found myself faced with an uncomfortable depression of sorts. I had a period when I was challenged in such an emotional way that it didn’t make sense to feel these two extremes of joy and depression at the same time. I found myself not wanting to actually leave the house or talk to people. I did both, but the desire was lacking in a striking way. I was by myself, which I’m used to, but this time being alone was overwhelming.

Some of my plants died, and I knew that was indicative of how I had started feeling. It wasn’t until we got to the winter season that I understood what was truly happening. While I prayed for my home to be a place of life, healing, love, and comfort for anyone who comes, I didn’t realize that it was going to happen to me and through me first. I’d made it to my safe place in life where I no longer had to live in survival mode, and it brought an awareness of deep, unaddressed emotions.

Winter in Florida is practically an oxymoron, but last December we had an overnight frost right before Christmas. My patio at the back of the house is screened in, so the plants I have outside are protected. At the time I was so focused on keeping my family warm and creating memories that I didn’t even think about the plants! A few of them died and didn’t bounce back, and I thought I was going to have to start all over again.

Once the weather warmed up, I noticed the aloe my mother gifted me was droopy and sad. I wanted to immediately throw it away because not only was I tired of feeling sad, but I was tired of seeing the brown, dried-out, lifeless plants on my patio. But something told me to hold on to it and give it a chance to come back. Reluctantly, I decided to keep the aloe and just cut off what was dead. I left it alone, and sure enough the it came back with a vengeance.

A short time after pruning, there were so many new leaves that each original leaf produced three to five more in its place! When I saw the newness of life in the aloe, God reminded me of redemption and resilience. Despite a rough season—even in the midst of something good, I was able to bounce back. Like my aloe plant, He’s shown me my ability to overcome. The aloe leaves came back, different than the original leaves, but with so much more to give!

Slowing down, taking intentional care of myself, letting go of the garments of the past, staying rooted, and allowing God to do His work (when I couldn’t see it) has been such a blessing.