I am a Christian wife and momma to four children, ages 21 to 5. I'm a writer who loves ministry, painting, and interior design. I reside in Orlando full-time, but escape to my farmhouse on a working farm in the sticks of Georgia whenever I can. Welcome to the Hallelujah House!

  • Home

    Let’s Talk Emergency Radios

    Why Emergency Radios are an Important Staple: In every disaster-ready home an emergency radio is essential. There are several reasons why emergency radios are important and handy in times of crises. My husband, Jay, and I are those weird people that get excited when a hurricane blows through. No, we don’t want it to damage property or hurt anyone, (we’re not sadistic), but we do tend to watch the hurricane coverage like it’s an Auburn versus Alabama football game while we munch out on tailgate food.  With that said, I can’t imagine staring at a wall after the electricity has gone out…not knowing what’s going on outside.  That’s why emergency radios…

  • Heart,  Home

    My Preparation Started with a Farmhouse

    Preparing Your Heart and Home: In the Beginning… I can pinpoint the exact year God put, “Get prepared!” on both my heart and my husband, Jay’s. It was 2015, around six months after my baby Bella’s birth, a few months after I lost my sister Tricia to breast cancer, and when I was scouring through floor plans for the farmhouse we intended to build. I dreamt of this quaint little cottage tucked into the woods. For years I stared lustfully at the pages of Southern Living Magazine at all those single stories, with pitched roofs, and little flower boxes. Determined to squeeze four children into it, I wanted: easy to…

  • Writing

    How to Overcome Darkness:

    I spent the day writing a blog post, that may never make it out of my document file. Instead, I thought with all the great delusions and darkness out there, we could all use some truth and light. So, here’s my post for today…             “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him was not anything made that was made. In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” John1:1-5…

  • Writing

    Allowing Our Hurts to Inflict Hurt:

    Preparing the Heart and Harvest: We planted a garden during quarantine. Almost every day, we’d check the growth of our tiny seeds. In some of the beds, the weeds shot up before the seedling, preparing to choke it out once it emerged into the light. In some, we struggled identifying which was the seedling and which was the weed. In those planters we decided not to pull the weeds until we were sure which was which. Although, waiting had its consequences. Once the vegetation came up, the weed had already found the seeds root system and tangled itself around it. When we tugged the weed, out came our produce as…

  • Writing

    The Truth About White Lives

    “The beginning of wisdom is this: Get wisdom, and whatever you get, get insight. Prize her highly, and she will exalt you; she will honor you if you embrace her.” Proverbs 4:7-8 English Standard Version I wandered around my happy place Friday evening. I haven’t been to my happy place in several months due to Covid 19, so when I walked through the doors of Barnes and Nobel and that aroma of brewed coffee greeted me… I heard music. I wanted to open my arms and swirl around in the aisle like Maria did on the mountaintop in The Sound of Music, but I was wearing a mask and already…

  • Heart

    Killing Racism

    “We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference.” Ellie Wiesel I was raised to be a racist, not the type that wore a hood and burned crosses in front yards, but a quiet one. Racism slithered across the floors of our Christian home hissing “sshhh.” It taught me to be afraid of black people, when Momma gripped my hand on the sidewalk as we passed by people of color. It taught me black people committed most of the crime in our town, when I heard comments like “Do they know…

  • Heart

    A Slowed Down Life:

    Preparing the Heart: Recently I’ve returned to my Orlando home. What we thought was a few days for spring break morphed into a two-month quarantine at our farmhouse. On the drive back to civilization and restaurant row, I realized I’d not driven anything but an ATV since March. I felt like a giddy sixteen-year old behind the wheel of my SUV. Furthermore, I’d not left the farm property in almost two months. I wanted to get home and bury myself in my office and studio. I also felt the overwhelming desire to grocery shop—but hey, I’d take any retail therapy I could get at this point.              But I’m a wishy-washy…

  • Heart

    What’s in a Name?

    I’ll confess I never truly liked the name Tammy. I blame my name for all the pats I received on the head from male employers and for the punches in the arm instead of dates I received from guys I thought were cute in college. It’s my name’s fault for why I’ve worked so hard to prove myself because if I didn’t, I feared I wouldn’t get past the little white yapper image in people’s minds when they thought of me. I read a book once about the psychology behind a name. The author stated our names shaped a portion of our personalities because it dictates how people perceive us…

  • Heart,  Writing

    The Sound of Silence

    The Chesapeake Bay fueled my terror of lightning. One afternoon, a dark shadow hung over my Daddy’s boat before a bright flash bounced off a crab pot, and a sharp pain sliced through my arm as it hung over the side of the boat. For years after, Momma closed all the doors to the bedrooms and sat with me in the hallway during lightning storms. We leaned against her record/stereo player that we had to turn sideways to scoot around. Simon and Garfunkel, Motown greats, James Taylor, John Denver—whichever she was in the mood for that afternoon—drowned out the thunder. Today, I heard again a remake of Simon and Garfunkel’s…

  • Heart,  Writing

    Mourning the Loss of Expectations

    Feeling sad today. Missing travel. Missing Main Street, USA at Magic Kingdom. Fearing that awful, monstrous…The Unknown. I don’t shove these feelings down. I don’t scold myself for not trusting God enough for not having enough faith. Please. The Bible is pretty much ALL people who aren’t enough but for whom God decides to Be everything. He’s always filled in the gaps, where we aren’t enough. No, what I’m doing is recognizing that my expectation for life does not match reality. The journey of letting go of expectation and accepting reality is called grief. It’s a crucial part of our mental health. Grief is tricky. It messes you up to…