This Is Where The Wildflowers Grow

Notes on spring, perfectionism, and paper plates

Somewhat similar to my writing notebook, with sheets of paper coming out of everywhere, this month feels messy. In a good way, but still messy.

I’ve accepted I’m a type A everything, not by choice, but it’s the way my brain is wired.

While I’m excited about the loose rhythms of spring and summer, I’m also double-checking our family calendar, making a mental list of birthdays, and asking for dietary restrictions. All while finding budget-friendly, compostable, cute paper plates. Type-A, remember?

I want to curate it all, which can be a beautiful thing. However, it’s a version of control, an illusion.

Enter the wildflowers

def: any flowering plant that has not been genetically manipulated. Generally, the term applies to plants growing without intentional human aid, particularly those flowering in spring and summer in woodlands, prairies, and mountains.¹

I can’t look away now. My prayer walks are a silent time to find and gaze at the wildflowers.

Turns out when you decide to let go of control—or the illusion of it—you get to enjoy beauty that can’t be curated.

The dinner night I almost cancelled because I didn’t know anyone, but it brought so much joy and laughter.

The text from a new friend driving through town that led to good food, donuts, and life conversations I’ve been praying about.

Applying to a job I’m not qualified for and feeling like God is redeeming what I thought was an old dream.

Deciding not to meal prep, eating quesadillas and guac on repeat while watching Modern Family reruns with my husband. Simple yet holy.

Walking around the bookstore without a list (who am I?) and finding new authors who remind me we’re all here for the love of words.

Friend, this is where the wildflowers grow

This is the season to put the gardening tools down for a bit to welcome what is meant to grow.

Take it from a type-A, recovering perfectionist.

Let the wildflowers grow. Let (insert your metaphor here) grow.

Allow yourself to throw away the script and notice the beauty that blooms when you’re present as you walk.

If you’re reading this and think, this is not the place I want to be, I have no idea how I ended up here.

I’ve been there, I know it feels uncomfortable, and you want to skip to the ‘good part’. But I still want to invite you to not rush past this season.

Sometimes staying when you want to leave is the greatest gift you can give yourself. There’s goodness and grace for this season, for the cloudy days, and the things you don’t understand.

If you’re reading this, it’s because, by God’s favor, I stayed in places that I wanted to run away from. I took a few notes that turned into this newsletter and by faith will one day be books.

Those voices telling you to work harder or that you’re not doing enough are a lie. You don’t need to prove your existence, you get to live.

Take what you need from this place, stay for as long as you want to. And don’t miss the wildflowers.

I’ll order pizza and probably ask if you prefer a gluten-free crust. Yes, I’ll bring matching paper plates because we get to add a special touch, we get to turn this place into a celebration.

Cheering you on, excited to hear what is growing in your path.

Talk soon,

Stella

1. The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica (2024, September 22). wildflower. Encyclopedia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/plant/wildflower