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Maybe I was always meant for this life.

It’s funny how God can take you from everything you’ve ever known and plant you somewhere you’d only dream about.

I grew up in a place almost polar opposite from the one I call home now. I didn’t grow up with ranch roads and cows in the pasture, horses tied at the trailer, or boots lined up by the back door. I didn’t know the rhythm of long days, dusty pickups, or raising babies where the horizon seems to stretch on forever.

But somewhere along the way, the unfamiliar became mine.

I fell in love with a cowboy, and then I fell in love with his way of life. With the land. With the work. With a little West Texas town and the kind of people who still wave when they pass you on the road. With sunsets that make you stop what you’re doing and skies so big they have a way of making you & everything else feel small.

And then God gave me two little cowboys of my own…

Two feral little boys to keep my hands full and my heart even fuller. Cowboys who believe dirt belongs on their jeans, livestock are part of our family, and that Dad is about the closest thing there is to a real-life hero. They’re growing up knowing a life I had to learn.

Sometimes I look around at this life… the dust, the animals, the endless laundry, the early mornings, the little cowkid toys scattered across the floor, and wonder how a girl who came from somewhere so different ended up belonging here so completely.

I guess that’s the beautiful thing about God’s plans.

Sometimes He plants your roots in soil you never expected, and one day you look around and realize they’ve grown so deep you couldn’t imagine belonging anywhere else. So trust in his plan, because you may never know how beautiful it’ll turn out. 

This wasn’t the life I grew up knowing, but I think it might’ve been the life I was always meant for. 🤎
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