I suppose I've known this, in the back of my mind, and I've often joked, "I'm Eliza!" 

But this morning, it became especially clear.

I've heard there's a theory, that people have what's known as their "life age."

I truly believe mine is around 8 or 9. ...Just ask my mother...

That is how I see the world, through the eyes of an 8 year old….


….the 8 year old Christie who loved her baby dolls..the 9 year old that made Barbie cars out of shoeboxes…the 10 year old that created little log cabins out of sticks, with moss for carpet, surrounding a tiny black cookstove….the 14 year old with long braids who wore calico dresses and pinafores made by mother (and then nicknamed "Laura" from Little House on the Prairie, by family)

I've always viewed life and my surroundings with a sense of wonder.

In this photo, my older sister has always teased the caption should read,
"Do we have to keep her!"



Eternally ridiculously happy.

I always had a pocketbook and a hat…even when it wasn't Easter Sunday…



I haven't always been understood by others, so I am especially grateful for my husband who embraces my "vision."

I am a hopeless romantic, and he loves that about me.
And I still love a pretty bonnet…

Last April, on a visit to an old cemetery in Round Top, Texas, I was taken by the beauty of the Bluebonnets and the stone walls and ancient head stones.  

My eyes fell upon the headstone of an infant. 

The date was the very date of our visit, there…April 9th. 

I was amazed.

I wanted to know what it meant…why this "coincidence"

And then I felt a peace wash over me.

I believe God was impressing upon me .."I'm here. I'm in this. This path you're on, sharing your stories, sharing your heart…It's the right path."

I had lost a child, an infant.


She was born on February 26, 1985 and died 12 hours later, on February 27, 1985.
We had named her Rachel Rose.

I felt a mother's grief, looking down at that tiny grave in Round Top, Texas.

My dearest friend Kim and I had taught together 20 years ago.


and our friendship remains steadfast…


She had lost her oldest sibling, her brother Matt, in a small plane accident on April 9, 1987. 

He was only 22. 

I had not been aware of the date, until we were having a conversation several months ago, when I was discussing illustrations I was creating for my book in progress…an illustration of a headstone with that very date.
She was still grieving the loss of her mother, who had died February 26, 2015…
on what would have been my Rachel's 30th birthday.

Friday is the 26th.  She and her family will mourn. I will grieve with her…
and I will remember my infant girl…

But I will also find the joy in this day. 

I will see the wonder in the release of a brand new book..


a book that celebrates what it is to find a place of rest when you're weary..


a book that hopefully helps little girls (and grown up little girls) embrace who they were created to be..

...a book that celebrates the dream and vision of a woman named Rachel.

I'm not always happy that God doesn't show me the whole big picture all at once, 

(for there are times I'm happy that I don't have to know!)

but I am certainly grateful that He loves me enough to bring it all together for good…

reassuring me along the way, impressing upon me... 

"I'm here. I'm in this. You're on the right path."

So, for every February 26th, I will celebrate, and I will find comfort, and I will remember…

God is good. All.The.Time.