Flowers and Gifts by Taty

07/31/2025

Our daughter’s name, Arnette, is rare, beautiful, and melodic.
It has Germanic roots.
When she was born, we didn’t know the meaning of the name —
we simply chose it because we loved the way it sounded.
But then… the wind came.
Not gentle — but strong. Stormy.
And in that season of trials, pain, prayer, and battle,
we discovered that the name we gave our daughter
was not chosen by accident.
❤️Arnette comes from Old German:
Arn – eagle
-wald – rule, power

Which means:
“Eagle strength.”
“One who rules from the heights.”
“One whose nature is to rise above the storm.”
And we realized:
this is not just a name.
It’s a promise from God, written into her destiny.
She is like an eagle.
Not made for low places.
Through the winds, through pain, through fire —
she spreads her wings and rises.
And she’s been doing that for 27 years…
Not by her own strength,
but by the strength of the One
who gave her that name❤️❤️❤️
before the foundation of the world.

07/22/2025

God created day and night — not because He needed them.
He does not sleep.

But for us — He gave day and night
as a sign, a reminder, a rhythm of grace.
He said, “I have made a covenant with the day and with the night.” (Jeremiah 33:20)
That means: both day and night are under His authority.
And the night will never last forever.
It must make way for the morning.

Night in life is more than just darkness outside the window.
It’s the season when everything feels paused.
When prayers seem to fall into silence.
When fear shows up uninvited.
When the heart grows tired of waiting,
and hope feels fragile.

Yes, much evil happens in the night.
Jesus said the thief comes in the night.
Darkness hides, frightens, weighs down.

But in God’s hands — even night has its holiness.

Remember:
Paul and Silas, beaten and chained in a prison cell,
did not stay silent in the night.
They sang.
And at midnight, their song broke their chains (Acts 16:25–26).

Jacob wrestled with God in the night — and by morning, he received a new name: Israel (Genesis 32).
Night is not wasted time.
Sometimes, it’s when we hear God’s voice most clearly —
because everything else is still, and only He remains.

I know what night feels like.
I’ve walked through it — more than once.
When breath shortens from pain,
when silence becomes louder than any scream.
And all I could do… was lift my eyes to heaven.
No words.
No strength.
Just upward.

And again and again…
in the deepest darkness, I heard a whisper inside:
“The night will pass.” ❤️

It’s not just a comforting phrase.
It’s a divine truth.
It’s part of His covenant.
“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5)
“The sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings.” (Malachi 4:2)

So if you’re in the night right now…
if your season feels cold, confusing, or full of shadows —
don’t look down.

Lift your eyes.
God is near.
The light is already prepared.
And He never comes late.

Night is not the final word.
God has made a covenant with it.
And He Himself says:
‘The night will pass.’

And morning will be new.
And your heart will sing again❤️❤️❤️

07/20/2025

Thank you to everyone who took a moment to stop by, send a message, or wish Arnette a happy birthday.
She may not have found the words to express just how much it meant to her — but I saw it.
I saw the sparkle in her eyes, the quiet joy that shone through her smile.
She felt loved.
She felt seen.
And that kind of love is the greatest gift anyone can receive.

A very special thank you to Renata, who, year after year, pours her heart into creating the most beautiful and delicious birthday cake for Arnette.
It’s never just a cake — it’s a masterpiece.
A piece of art baked with love, beauty, and kindness.

From the bottom of my heart — thank you for making Arnette’s day so deeply special. ❤️

07/17/2025

When My Soul Has No Quiet Place…❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Sometimes the pain isn’t in one place.
It’s everywhere.
It wraps around your body like a storm,
settling into your bones,
pressing into your breath,
until even rest feels like work.

I remember that kind of pain…
When my husband and I first caught COVID,
before the world knew what it was.
People kept their distance.
Some passed by our house in silence,
afraid to come close,
as if we were untouchable —
marked by something unknown and dangerous.
And that did something deeper than hurt the body.

Because sometimes it’s not the body that aches —
it’s the soul.
And when the soul hurts,
there are no painkillers,
no X-rays to show the fracture,
no medicine that knows where to go.
You just feel… broken
in every hidden, unseen place.

But I have learned this:
There is One who sees what no one else can see.
There is One whose Word knows how to find
the deepest wounds.
“He sent His Word, and healed them.”
(Psalm 107:20)

Just one whisper from You, Jesus,
and the darkness shifts.
Just one word from Your mouth
can hold my whole being together.

Speak to me, Lord…
I’m listening.
Not to the noise of fear.
Not to the voice of despair.
But to You.

Let Your Word silence every storm around me.
Let it touch the parts of me I cannot name.
Let it be enough.
Because You are enough.

And for every soul that’s weary today —
for those whose pain has no language,
whose tears have no audience,
whose nights are longer than their strength —
Be near.
Jesus, be near.

You know this kind of sorrow.
You wore it like a crown.
You carried it in Your blood.
And You offer healing not from a distance,
but from within the ache itself.

I love You, Jesus.
Not because I always understand,
but because You never leave.
Not because the pain has stopped,
but because You step into it with me❤️‍🩹❤️❤️❤️

07/15/2025

After 4.5 long weeks in a very special place, view from our window has finally changed.

And truly… there’s no better view than home.

Arnette’s recovery hasn’t been as fast as we had hoped. I remember asking the doctor — “Do you think Arnette could be home for her birthday?” Because for 27 years, Arnette never let her birthday go unnoticed. Sometimes, she would start talking about it six months ahead of time, reminding us with joy and excitement that her special day was coming.

Except for last year.

Last year, everything changed. We stepped into a new season — unfamiliar, uncertain, and harder than words can express. And we’re still walking through it.

Some nights felt so cold — not just from the air conditioning, but from the silent battles within her body… the kind that are hard to treat when medications that were supposed to help start working against each other. Some days are better. Some are not. We are taking it one day at a time.

But here’s what I know:
We are not where we were even four weeks ago.
And that is grace.

One of the beautiful signs of that grace is that Arnette’s heart rhythm has improved. Something we had prayed for — something that gives us hope for tomorrow.

Thank You, Jesus, for walking us through the darkest days and nights.
Thank you to every one of you who prays for our family, who blesses us in quiet and generous ways.
On the days we feel overwhelmed, God reminds us — through you — that He sees us.

We are especially grateful for the medical staff — for their extra care, extra smiles, extra patience, and extra kindness during these long 4.5 weeks. And even though she needed a little more time in the hospital, the doctor understood how deeply special this birthday is to Arnette — and she agreed to let her come home.

When we arrived, Arnette was so happy.

Her first night at home wasn’t easy. But she’s home. And that in itself is a gift.

She is tired. She is still healing. But she is very, very blessed.

And so are we.

07/14/2025

07/13/2025

When my heart is overwhelmed,
when I can’t find steady ground…
I don’t need explanations.
I don’t need to be stronger.

I need the Rock.
Higher than me.
Wiser than me.
Unshakable, unchanging, eternal.

Take me there, Lord—
above my fear,
above this storm,
above what I can fix or feel.

To the place where You are still God.
Where my soul can breathe again.

“Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.”
(Psalm 61:2)

07/07/2025

06/26/2025

Happy Birthday, my dear Zachary.

On the day you were born, heaven whispered your name —
and ever since, you’ve been a part of God’s unfolding story in our lives.
You are not here by accident.
You are not just my son —
you are a testimony of God’s faithfulness,
a light in our home,
and a reminder that even in the hardest seasons,
there is beauty, strength, and purpose.

I have watched you grow — not just taller or older —
but deeper… stronger… wiser.
You carry a quiet depth,
a fire that refuses to be extinguished,
a kindness that this world desperately needs.

I don’t just celebrate your birth today —
I celebrate your journey.
The prayers you’ve whispered in secret.
The tears no one saw.
The strength you’ve found in silence.
And the battles you’ve fought that made you who you are.

May this year bring you closer to who you were created to be.
May you hear God’s voice louder than the noise of the world.
May your steps be led by truth, not pressure.
And may you always know —
that you are loved deeply, unconditionally, forever.

I thank God for you, Zachary.
And I will never stop praying over your life.

With all the love a mother’s heart can hold,
Mom