I had a plan for this summer. It was a simple plan. A manageable plan. A budget-friendly plan. As a single mother of two, I’ve become pretty good at estimating what I need to survive summer. I know how much cereal disappears in a week. I know roughly how much gas I’ll use driving around town. I know how far I can stretch a grocery budget when necessary.

Then summer happened. And somehow, by the second week, I found myself with a plus one. Now let me say this—I love this child dearly. But nobody warned me that adding one extra child to a household doesn’t increase food consumption by 33 percent. It apparently increases it by 700 percent.

These children have the appetites of piranhas. I buy snacks on Monday and by Wednesday they’re discussing them like fond childhood memories.

“Remember those chips?”

No. No, I do not remember those chips because I purchased them less than forty-eight hours ago. Every time I open the pantry, I feel like I’m touring the aftermath of a natural disaster. Granola bars are gone. Fruit snacks are gone. Juice boxes are gone. At this point, if someone offered me stock in a grocery store, I’d seriously consider it.

To make matters even more interesting, my part time job has ended, so there isn’t any extra income coming in right now. Every grocery trip feels a little more strategic than the last. Every purchase gets evaluated. Do we need it? Will it last longer than twelve minutes? Is it worth hiding behind the vegetables?

Thankfully, Vacation Bible School has been a gift from God. For a few precious hours each day, the kids are learning about Jesus, making friends, and having fun. Meanwhile, I’m getting a chance to catch my breath, answer emails, work on Radiant in Bloom, or simply enjoy a few moments where nobody is asking me where the snacks are. Of course, VBS also means daily drop-offs and pickups. While I’m grateful for every minute of it, each trip is a reminder that gas prices are still determined to keep us humble.

Somewhere between the grocery store runs, VBS car lines, laundry mountains, and attempts to keep everyone fed, I noticed myself slipping into a familiar mindset. I started feeling like I was falling behind. Not behind on chores. That battle was lost years ago. I mean behind in life. You know the feeling. Everyone else seems to be accomplishing amazing things while you’re just trying to remember why you walked into a room. Social media is full of people launching businesses, reaching goals, and living beautifully organized lives while you’re standing in the kitchen wondering whether cereal can reasonably count as dinner. Again. The truth is, most of life isn’t lived in the exciting beginning or the triumphant ending. Most of us spend our time in the middle. The messy, uncomfortable, often frustrating middle where we’re still figuring things out. The middle is where growth happens. It’s where we learn to let go of perfectionism. It’s where we stop expecting ourselves to have all the answers. It’s where we realize that becoming isn’t about arriving somewhere; it’s about continuing to move forward, even when life feels loud and chaotic.

I’ve spent a lot of time waiting for life to settle down before giving myself permission to grow. I thought I needed more time, more money, more confidence, more certainty. What I’m learning instead is that growth doesn’t wait for perfect conditions. It happens while you’re folding laundry. It happens while you’re sitting in the VBS pickup line. It happens while you’re stretching a budget, navigating uncertainty, and doing your best with what you have.

That’s exactly why I created the Year of Becoming Affirmation Deck and the companion Ritual of Restoration Guide.

They’re not designed for women whose lives are perfectly organized. They’re designed for women living in the real world. Women who are still healing, still learning, still growing, and still becoming. Sometimes all it takes is a few intentional minutes each day to interrupt the noise, challenge the negative thoughts, and remind yourself that you’re making progress even when it doesn’t feel like it. If life feels messy right now, you’re not failing. If you’re still figuring things out, you’re not behind. If you’re somewhere in the middle of the story, you’re exactly where growth often happens.

You are still becoming.

And that’s a beautiful place to be.