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Follow In My Footsteps

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Follow In MY Footsteps

follow in MY Footsepts (1)

"Trust in the Lord with all of your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.

Seek HIS will in all that you do, and HE will direct your path"

Proverbs 3: 5-6

Follow in MY Footsteps, and I will lead the way.

Talk to ME, I'll listen. I hear you when you pray.

 

And if you fall behind ME, don't fear the dark of night.

Follow in MY Footsteps, illuminated by MY light.

 

NOW is the perfect time, so please do not delay.

Follow in MY Footsteps, and I will lead the way.

"YOUR  WORD is a lamp to guide my feet and a light for my path."

Psalm 119:105

God Bless
xoxo

RoseMary

Finding Good When Discouragement Tries To Steal Your Joy

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Finding Good When Discouragement
Tries To Steal Your Joy

Even when the sky is dark, keep your eyes on the light God has placed in your hands. (3)

Some blog posts are easy to write.

This one wasn't.

One of the hardest things I've learned over the past year is that discouragement doesn't always come from strangers. Sometimes it comes from words that stay with you long after they've been spoken.

I've shared before that I use AI as one of the tools in my creative journey. I write my own stories. I write my own blog posts. I write my own song lyrics. My heart, my experiences, my faith, and my message are my own.

But when I began using AI to help create illustrations for my stories and demo versions of my songs, I heard things like:

"You're taking jobs away from artists."

"You're taking work away from musicians and singers."

I wish I could tell you those words didn't affect me.

They did.

More than I wanted to admit.

Instead of feeling excited to create, I began questioning everything I was doing.

Was I doing something wrong?

Was I taking something that belonged to someone else?

Was I disappointing God?

Those questions became so heavy that, little by little, I stopped moving forward.

I became frozen.

The hardest part is that my heart has never been to replace anyone.

In fact, it is the complete opposite.

I think it is wonderful when people can hire illustrators, musicians, singers, editors, publishers, and designers. Those creative gifts are valuable and deserve to be celebrated.

I cannot afford to hire a team.

So I use the tools I have available.

Not because I don't value people.

Not because I don't appreciate the incredible talents of others.

But because I have a message I believe God has placed on my heart, and I don't want a lack of resources to stop me from sharing encouragement, hope, and faith with someone who may need it.

One day, I would love to collaborate with musicians and singers. The songs I've written were never meant to stay as AI demos forever. My hope has always been that talented people would come alongside me and help bring those songs to life.

If those songs ever earn money, I don't want to keep it all for myself. I want to share the blessing with the people who help me create them.

That is my heart.

Recently, something occurred to me.

Technology has changed creativity for generations.

Authors self-publish books.

Musicians record in home studios.

Small business owners design their own flyers and social media graphics.

People create videos, edit photos, and produce content with tools that didn't exist years ago.

Every generation has embraced new ways to create.

So perhaps the better question isn't, "What tool are you using?"

Perhaps the better question is:

"What is in your heart?"

Are we creating with honesty?

Are we treating others with respect?

Are we using our gifts to encourage rather than harm?

Those are the questions I want to ask myself.

As Christians, I believe we are called to speak the truth in love. That means we can have different opinions without forgetting kindness. It also means we should be careful that our words don't discourage someone who is sincerely trying to use the gifts God has given them.

"Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen."
Ephesians 4:29 

This verse doesn't mean we can't disagree.

It reminds me that how we speak matters.

Our words can build someone up, or they can quietly convince someone to stop trying.

I want my words and my life to build people up.

My mission has never changed.

Find Good in Everything. Every Day. In Everyone. In Every Situation.

Honestly, it has been difficult to find the good in this season.

But maybe this is the good.

The criticism forced me to examine my heart.

It reminded me that my purpose isn't to win arguments.

My purpose is to encourage people.

It reminded me that kindness matters, especially when we disagree.

And it reminded me that fear can quietly steal our joy if we allow it.

So today, I'm choosing to keep creating.

Not because everyone will understand.

Not because everyone will agree.

But because I believe God gives each of us gifts, and I don't want fear to bury the ones He has entrusted to me.

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."
Galatians 6:9 

If you're reading this and you've been discouraged by someone's words, I hope you remember this:

Sometimes people see your tools before they see your heart.

God sees your heart first.

So keep creating.

Keep encouraging.

Keep shining your light.

And keep looking for the good.

Because someone, somewhere, may need the hope that only you can share.

Today, I am choosing kindness over criticism.

Grace over judgment.

Hope over fear.

And I am choosing to keep looking for the good.

Every day.

In everyone.

In every situation.

Because that is still the message God has placed on my heart.

God Bless
xoxo

RoseMary

Letters to Heaven

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Letters to Heaven

Letters to Heaven (1)

Ruth loved Sundays.

Every Sunday after church, she would sit beneath a beautiful lilac tree with her best friend, LoLa.

One Sunday, LoLa was very quiet.

Ruth gently took her hand.

“Why are you so sad today?” she asked.

A tear rolled down LoLa’s cheek.

“I miss my best friend so much,” she whispered. “I wish I could tell her how much I love her.”

Ruth thought for a moment, then smiled gently.

“Would you like to write her a letter and place it in my Letters to Heaven Box?”

LoLa looked up. “Letters to Heaven Box? What’s that?”

Ruth pointed softly toward the sky.

“After I read in the Bible about Jacob’s dream of a stairway reaching to heaven, I imagined something beautiful,” she said. “I imagined a special box where people could write letters to the ones they miss.”

LoLa listened closely.

“Every Sunday,” Ruth continued, “people bring their letters to church. We place them in the box together. Then, in my imagination, I picture the box resting at the bottom of that heavenly stairway.  I imagine God’s angels coming down, carrying every letter  back to God in Heaven.”

LoLa was quiet for a moment.

“What do people write in their letters?” she asked softly.

Ruth smiled.

“They write about happy memories. Birthdays. Holidays. Funny stories. And all the things they wish they could still say. Most of all, they write, ‘I love you.’”

LoLa’s eyes filled again, but this time something in her heart felt a little warmer.

“So I could tell her everything in my heart?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Ruth said gently. “Love never stops, even when someone we love is no longer here with us.”

LoLa found a piece of paper and began to write.

She wrote about the memories she treasured.

She wrote about how much she missed her best friend.

She wrote about all the little things she wished they could still share.

And at the bottom, she wrote:

“I love you.”

When she finished, she carefully folded the letter and placed it inside the Letters to Heaven Box.

Then she closed her eyes and prayed.

“Dear God, thank You for my best friend. Please hold her close until I see her again. And thank You for always holding me close, too. Amen.”

That evening, Ruth walked to her favorite place beneath the lilac tree.

She gently placed the Letters to Heaven Box there.

As the wind moved softly through the branches, Ruth looked up at the stars.

In her heart, she imagined the heavenly stairway from Jacob’s dream.

Ruth pictured God’s love reaching from heaven to earth, holding every tear and every letter.

As the days passed, something began to happen in their town.

Sad people began to feel happier after writing their letters.

They shared memories they had almost forgotten.

They spoke names they had been afraid to say.

And slowly, love filled the empty spaces grief had left behind.

Ruth understood something very important.

God hears every prayer.

God sees every tear.

God’s love never leaves us—not even for a moment.

Sometimes we cannot hug the people we miss.

Sometimes we cannot hear their voices.

But we can always remember them.

We can always love them.

And we can always talk to God.

And when we do, we are never alone.

"As he slept, he dreamed of a stairway that reached from the earth to heaven. And he saw the angels of God going up and down the stairway." — Genesis 28:12

God Bless
xoxo

RoseMary

Faith vs Fairytale

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Faith vs Fairytale

Faith vs Fairy Tale (1)

I try to do the right thing. I try to live the way God calls me to live. And many times, I am overlooked, misunderstood, or quietly dismissed.

I've been told my outlook is unrealistic. That finding good in everything is ridiculous. That the world isn't a fairy tale.

I agree.

The world isn't a fairy tale.

It's broken.

People are hurting, and some days believing in goodness feels heavy, not easy.

But my faith has never been about pretending pain doesn't exist.

As a Christian, I believe God gave us free will. That means people can make loving choices or devastating ones. I don't believe God causes evil. I believe it grieves Him.

I believe blaming God is often easier than sitting with heartbreak we don't understand.

The Bible never promises us a painless life.

Jesus said, "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)

There are days I get discouraged. Days I wonder if what I'm doing even matters. Days when staying positive feels exhausting, not inspiring.

I don't always feel strong.

But I still choose faith.

Finding good in everything isn't denial. It's trusting God when answers don't come.

It's believing He is still working even when I can't see how.

 

That verse doesn't say all things are good. It says God works in all things.

Sometimes the good is growth. Sometimes it's compassion. Sometimes it's learning to trust Him more deeply when life doesn't make sense.

I look for the good because I have seen God redeem moments that felt meaningless at the time.

I look for the good because choosing hope keeps my heart soft in a world that often grows hard.

And yes, sometimes it hurts to believe so deeply in a world that doesn't.

 

Galatians 6:9 reminds me, "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."

So I won't give up.

I will keep choosing what is right.

I will keep believing God is faithful.

I will keep finding good in everything—not because life is perfect, but because God is present.

When I say "Find Good in Everything," I'm not minimizing pain. I am refusing to let pain define the whole story.

I'm choosing hope when despair would be easier.

I'm trusting that God can redeem what He did not create.

Jesus Himself never denied suffering. He stepped into it. He wept. He was misunderstood. He was overlooked. He was criticized for loving too much and caring too deeply.

And yet, He continued. He never stopped bringing light into the darkness.

Finding good in everything does not mean every situation is good. It means I trust God to work through every situation.

And if that looks foolish to some, I'm okay with that, because hope always looks foolish until it changes someone's life.

Faith is choosing to trust God enough to build when the sky is dark, the ground is hard, and others say you're living in a fairy tale.

Storms don't destroy faith. They reveal what faith is built on.

This isn't a fairy tale.

It's faith.

Imperfect, honest, and true.

Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose."

God Bless
xoxo

RoseMary

The Good Samaritan

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The Good Samaritan

Ruth with red hair and light brown eyes

The Good Samaritan Named Ruth

At Kind Meadow Academy, wealth and status meant everything to some students. Most of the children came from very wealthy families and lived in the grand boarding houses on campus. Their parents were doctors, celebrities, and business owners.

But there was one different girl. Ruth.

Ruth did not come from wealth. She lived in a tiny white farmhouse beside a beautiful lake far out in the countryside. Her father was the theology teacher at Kind Meadow Academy and also the pastor of the church the students attended each Sunday. Her mother worked as the school librarian. Because of her parents’ work and a scholarship, Ruth was allowed to attend the prestigious academy.

Some students looked down on Ruth because she was not rich and did not live at the boarding school. But many students loved her because she was kind, caring, and always willing to help others.

One Sunday morning, Genevieve Beaumont and her friends, Ambrosia Metcalf and Valentina Devereaux, were walking across the church parking lot when Genevieve suddenly slipped and fell into a large puddle of mud.

Mud splashed across her expensive shoes and stained her beautiful, pale blue designer dress.

“Please help me up,” Genevieve cried.

Ambrosia stepped backward and shook her head.

“Absolutely not,” she said. “I’m not getting my dress dirty.”

“Please,” Genevieve begged as she struggled to stand.

Valentina looked down at her designer shoes.

“I can’t help either,” she said. “These shoes were very expensive.”

Genevieve looked desperately at her friends.

“Could one of you at least drive me back to the house so I can change?”

Ambrosia frowned.

“You are not getting mud all over my car,” she snapped. “And we are definitely not sitting near you in church looking like that.”

The girls turned and walked away laughing quietly among themselves.

Genevieve felt alone in the parking lot, covered in mud and trying not to cry.

Then she heard a gentle voice behind her.

“Here,” the voice said softly. “Let me help you.”

Genevieve turned and saw Ruth standing behind her.

Ruth’s beautiful red, wavy hair danced in the breeze, and her large brown eyes were filled with kindness.

“Ruth,” called her mother from the old station wagon nearby, “let's take her home so she can clean up.”

Genevieve looked down at the mud covering her dress.

“But I’ll get mud all over your car,” she said quietly.

Ruth giggled.

“It’s only mud.”

Mrs. Joseph climbed out of the car, carrying a warm blanket, and wrapped it gently around Genevieve’s shoulders.

As they drove away from the grand stone buildings of Kind Meadow Academy, Genevieve stared at Ruth in confusion.

“You go to my school?” she asked.

“Yes,” Ruth answered with a smile. “My father teaches theology and pastors the church. My mother works in the school library, and I attend on scholarship.”

Genevieve suddenly felt something she had never experienced before.

Embarrassment.

She and Ruth were in the same English class, yet she had never once spoken to her. Not even a simple hello.

Soon, the paved roads disappeared, turning into narrow dirt paths lined with tall trees. Finally, they arrived at a tiny white farmhouse beside a sparkling lake.

It was nothing like Genevieve’s enormous mansion with its marble floors, maids, and chauffeurs.

But somehow, it felt warmer.

Ruth led her inside.

“I have a dress and shoes you can borrow,” Ruth said kindly. “They are not as pretty as yours, but they are clean.”

Both girls giggled.

The clothes were definitely not something Genevieve would normally wear, but she had no choice. Her parents were away on a trip, and she knew her older brother would never allow her into his car looking like that.

After changing clothes, the girls returned to church just as the service was beginning.

As Ruth and Genevieve walked through the doors together, nearly everyone turned to stare.

Genevieve nervously walked toward her usual seat beside Ambrosia and Valentina. But just as she began to sit down, Ambrosia placed her purse on the empty seat beside her.

“There’s no room,” she said coldly.

Genevieve stood there silently, humiliated.

Then Ruth smiled warmly.

“You can sit with my mother and me.”

Genevieve quietly followed Ruth to the small wooden pew at the front of the church.

A few moments later, Ruth’s father stepped to the pulpit and began his sermon.

“The Good Samaritan.”

Genevieve lowered her eyes.

How ironic, she thought.

After church, Genevieve walked toward her friends’ car.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ambrosia asked.

“We always go to the club for lunch after church,” said Genevieve.

Then Ambrosia looked at Genevieve’s borrowed clothes and wrinkled her nose.

Before Genevieve could answer, Ruth walked up beside her.

“We would love for you to join us for lunch,” Ruth said.

Genevieve blinked in surprise.

“What restaurant are we going to?” she asked.

Ruth laughed softly.

“We eat lunch together every Sunday at our house with family and neighbors.”

That afternoon changed Genevieve forever.

For the first time in her life, she realized that life was not about money, popularity, beautiful clothes, or where someone lived.

It was about kindness.

It was about compassion.

It was about how we treat people when they are hurting.

At Ruth’s tiny farmhouse beside the lake, Genevieve was welcomed with warmth, laughter, and love. No one judged her. No one expected her to impress them. They accepted her exactly as she was.

And that day, Genevieve Beaumont learned that the poorest person in the room is never the one with the least money.

It is the one with the least kindness.

From that day forward, Ruth and Genevieve became true friends.

A Good Samaritan is someone who helps a person in trouble, even if that person is a complete stranger, someone very different from them, even someone they don't get along with. It means doing the RIGHT thing just because it is RIGHT, without expecting a reward.

In the Bible, a Good Samaritan stopped to save a stranger who had been hurt on the side of the road, even though everyone else just walked right past him. Today, it means being the kind of person who notices when someone is hurting or left out, and chooses to help instead of walking away.

 

God Bless
xoxo

RoseMary

Let Go & Let God

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Let God & Let God

Let Go & Let God

Let go of the bitter - Let God make it better

Let go of the unforgiveness - Let God grant forgiveness

Let go of the hate - Let God supply love

Let go of the anger - Let God bring peace

Let go of the fear - Let God strengthen your faith

Let go of the worry - Let God carry you through

Let go means to release it to surrender it. Let GOD means to place it in HIS HANDS and trust HIM with it.

Let HIM carry the burden. Let HIM heal the hurt. Let HIM take what is heavy and do what only HE can do.

"Cast ALL your anxiety on HIM because HE cares for you."

1 Peter 5:7

Let go of the pain, the hurt, the anger, and the worry ... but NEVER let go of GOD.

God Bless
xoxo

RoseMary

Holy Spirit

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Holy Spirit

Acrostic Poem

Holy Spirit (1)

Heal My Heart

Open My Eyes, Mind, & Soul

Lead Me Gently Each Day

You Are My Guide

 

Search My Spirit

Protect My Path

Inspire My Purpose

Revive My Faith

Invest Wisdom Within Me

Teach Me To Walk In Love

"Create in me a clean heart, O God. Renew a loyal spirit within me."

Psalm 51:10

God Bless
xoxo

RoseMary

I am not cheating

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I Am Not Cheating

When They Said I Was Cheating… But I Was Just Creating

There have been moments recently that truly hurt my heart.

Moments where I shared something I created—something I was proud of—and instead of encouragement, I was met with criticism.

“You’re cheating.”
“You’re taking someone’s job.”
“That’s not real creativity.”

And I’ll be honest… it made me sad.
It made me question myself.

What made it even harder… was that some of those voices came from people I never expected.

So I paused… and reflected on my journey.

This journey is what led me to create in the first place—
to design jewelry, to write heartfelt quotes, to start a blog, and now to create stories, songs, and messages that I hope bring light and encouragement to others.

And yes… I have used AI.

But AI didn’t give me my message.
It didn’t give me my heart.
It didn’t give me my story.

God did.
My experiences did.
My pain did.
My healing did.

AI is simply a tool—just like a pen, a computer, or a publishing platform.

And that made me think…

When someone self-publishes a book, are they taking away a publisher’s job—or stepping into their calling?

When someone designs their own graphics, are they taking away a designer’s job—or expressing their creativity in a new way?

So why is AI any different?

Maybe… it’s not.
Maybe it’s just new.
And sometimes, new things make people uncomfortable.

But here’s what I know in my heart:

What I create is not about replacing anyone.
It’s about reaching someone.

Someone who needs encouragement.
Someone who needs hope.
Someone who needs a reminder that there is still good in this world.

And the message God placed on my heart is the same one I share with you:

Find Good in Everything, Every Day, in Everyone, in Every Situation.

Even in criticism.
Even in misunderstanding.
Even in moments that hurt.

Because sometimes…
even the hard moments are shaping something beautiful within us.

My pain became my purpose.

And maybe your story is doing the same for you.

But this experience also reminded me of something important:

Our words matter—more than we realize.

What we say may feel like an opinion…
but to someone else, it can feel like discouragement.
Like doubt.
Like pieces of their dream being chipped away.

And maybe those words weren’t meant to hurt…
but sometimes, they do.

That’s why I believe this:

We all have the right to our opinions.
But we also have the responsibility to use our words with kindness.

Because we never truly know:
how hard someone is trying,
how much courage it took for them to begin,
or how close they might be to giving up.

And sometimes…
all it takes is one kind word to help someone keep going.

As for me…

I’m not giving up.
I’m still choosing to believe.
Still choosing to create.
Still choosing to move forward—even when it’s hard.

Because the message placed on my heart hasn’t changed:

Find Good in Everything… Every Day… in Everyone… in Every Situation…
and never forget to find it in yourself.

Because someone out there might be holding onto a dream…

—and your words could be the reason they let go…
or the reason they hold on.

God Bless
xoxo

RoseMary

Finding Good In Everything – Even After Trauma

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Finding Good In Everything

Even After Trauma

Dancing Through The Storm

For most of my life, I carried stories that felt heavy.
Stories of childhood trauma.
Stories of violence.
Stories of broken relationships.
Stories of loss and regret.

There were moments when I believed these stories defined me.
I believed I was damaged.
I believed I was a bad mother.
I believed my past disqualified me from my dreams.

I remember looking in the mirror…
and not liking the woman looking back at me.

Not because of what I saw on the outside…
but because of what I believed on the inside.

I saw someone who had made mistakes.
Someone who had failed.
Someone who wasn’t enough.

Maybe you’ve had a moment like that too—
standing in front of a mirror,
being your own worst critic.

But what I didn’t realize then…
was that I wasn’t seeing myself the way God saw me.

Because God didn’t see a broken woman.
He saw someone still standing.
Still trying.
Still worthy of love.

And if you’ve ever felt that way, please hear this:
You are not who your mistakes say you are.
You are who God says you are.

Now, at 68 years old, I refuse to accept the old narrative.

I’ve learned something powerful:
Pain and beauty can exist in the same place.

I grew up in an environment where there was trauma…
But there was also talent.
There was brokenness… but also gifts.
There was fear… but also faith.

My father had hands that could hurt,
but those same hands created beautiful art, elegant handwriting, and music.
My mother carried deep wounds,
yet she was a dancer, a pianist, a singer, a seamstress, and a wonderful cook.

I inherited both pain and beauty.

And I had to make a choice.

I chose to hold on to the beauty.

The beauty of life.
The beauty that still existed, even in broken places.

As a child, survival meant learning to read people.
But I didn’t learn to hate them.

I learned to ask,
“What happened to them to make them this way?”

That question changed my heart.

Instead of building walls of bitterness,
I began building bridges of understanding.

That doesn’t mean I excuse harmful behavior.
It means I refuse to let hatred take root in my soul.

Throughout my life, I experienced abuse, broken trust, family pain, loss, and even suicide.
There were seasons when anxiety overwhelmed me—
paralyzing me to the point where I wouldn’t even leave the house.

And even today, anxiety still tries to return.

But now… I pray.
And I sing.

Prayer calms my soul.
Singing reminds me that I am alive.
Singing reminds me that hope still exists.

Praying and singing connect me to my faith—
and to freedom.

Even in my darkest moments, God was there…
even when I didn’t fully recognize it.

My healing came through prayer and song.

I used to believe my worth depended on being perfect.
I remember getting an A- in choir instead of an A and being told I wasn’t good enough.

I made mistakes as a mother, and I labeled myself “terrible.”
When relationships failed, I blamed my identity.

But I have learned something that changed everything:

Mistakes don’t define me.
Trauma doesn’t define me.
Other people’s brokenness doesn’t define me.

And it doesn’t define you either.

What I’ve walked through didn’t break me—it led me.
It led me to create, share, speak, and believe.

This journey is what led me to believe…
to begin creating pieces of jewelry,
to write a heartfelt quote,
to start a blog—
and now, a YouTube channel.

My pain became my purpose.

All because God placed this truth in my heart—
a truth I could not ignore,
a truth I could not keep to myself.

And maybe your story is doing the same for you…
Maybe it’s shaping something inside you that you don’t even see yet.

Maybe the very things that tried to break you
are the very things that are building something within you.

And the message God placed on my heart
is the same one I share with you:

Find Good in Everything, Everyday, in Everyone, in Every Situation.

Today, I choose to see the good in people.
I choose to understand before I judge.
I choose compassion over criticism.
I choose curiosity over hatred.

But I also choose boundaries.

Seeing good in others does not mean allowing harm.
Forgiving does not mean forgetting wisdom.
Grace and strength can live together.

I am here today not as a perfect woman,
but as a woman who survived.

I survived chaos.
I survived shame.
I survived abuse.
I survived loss.
I survived guilt.

And I still choose gratitude.

If there is one message I want you to take from my life, it is this:

No matter what you have been through…
Look for the good.
Look for the light.
Look for the gift inside the pain.

Because sometimes the very things that tried to break you
are the very things that shape your purpose.

I am proof that trauma does not have the final word.

Grace does.
God does.

And maybe… your story is not finished yet.

If you are still in the middle of your story, please hear this:

Your past does not define you.
Your pain does not disqualify you.
You are still loved.
You are still chosen.
And God is not finished with you yet.

As I reflect on my life, I recognize that my journey has not only affected me—it has affected others.

There were moments when I failed.
Moments where I chose poorly.
Moments where my actions caused pain.

I have gone to the people I could reach and offered apologies.
Some received them.
Some needed time.
And some relationships remain unresolved.

To anyone who experienced hurt because of my immaturity, my selfishness, my trauma responses, or my fear—
I am truly sorry.

Not to erase the past,
but to acknowledge it
and take responsibility for my part.

I understand that forgiveness is personal.

And whether forgiveness has been granted or not,
I have chosen accountability.
I have chosen growth.

And I will continue to choose it—every day.

So wherever you are in your story…
keep looking for the good.

Because it is there…

Even here.
Even now.

God Bless
xoxo

RoseMary