Homegrown

It’s called Homegrown because that’s what each of us are when we pull away all of the camouflage—the weeds. Like the unforgettable burning taste of hot moonshine or that cooling draught of country-iced water, the wild bittersweet juiciness of blackberries, and the sweet tartness of homegrown peaches both canned in an old-fashioned Mason jar, it’s who I am. I’m a country girl who’s been homegrown from seeds of love that were planted inside of me and sealed above by my Heavenly Father. Like harvested and cultivated fruit that you can’t pick up just anywhere because they’re grown for a special purpose, so am I. They were His seeds that were planted inside of me before thoughts of me were even conceived in the mind of my parents. His purpose for me existed before I did. 

His seeds of purpose exist despite the weeds of self-abuse and childhood molestation. Those seeds were resistant to those same weeds because our Heavenly Father knew beforehand what was needed in the seed to make those shoots strong enough to survive. And now I know He’s counting on me to allow Him to nurture and prune them into the trees of prosperity and purpose for others to feed and feast upon. To manifest finally into the forest of faith He’s anointed and called me to be. I know God wants me to be a witness of His grace and goodness for the entire world to see. I am His forest of love, offering forgiveness and hope and giving emotional and physical release to millions of men and women who have been hiding behind their pride—and their pain.