Brave Heart, Brave Soul. She who is brave is free.

“And one day she discovered she was fierce, and strong, and full of fire and that not even she could hold herself back because her passion burned brighter than her fears.” ~ Mark Anthony Not everything makes sense. But not everything should I suppose. I for one can make my husband's head spin. The truth is we’re not the couple anyone expects. We’re as different and as wonderfully mismatched as they come. I’m a typical nerdy, book readin', comic book talkin', Star Wars lovin', Disney quotin', tea sippin’ Gospel singin', Jesus saved, southern cookin’, Texas raised gal. Johnny was the high school linebacker. His Friday nights were spent out under the lights of a Texas high school football stadium. Mine were spent inside books, with a Disney movie playing in the background. When Johnny and I met we were about as different as oil is from water. I was quiet and he was a fun loving flirtatious jock. Thinking about it we were as likely to end up together a...

"Families are like branches on a tree. We grow in different directions yet our roots remain as one."  ` Anonymous I am a Dowling. I came to my name by way of my dad, the oldest of the five Irish Catholic children born to Robert and Mary Dowling. My dad is a third generation born American. As the great-granddaughter times two of my immigrant great- great grandparents I come from a long line of Irish. Immigrants who worked hard to come over on boats across the ocean to this great country. Our roots are planted deep in southern country roads and dirt floors. Poor men and women done good, working in the steel mills of Alabama and fighting for the freedom of their beloved adopted country. They most definitely faced demons, fought off devils and eventually found Jesus. Peering into our family history there is deep, dark struggle, heart-ache and difficulties. Some stories are best left unread while others should be retold time and time again, as often as possible. Truth...

"Some days I wish I could go back in life. Not to change anything but to feel a few things twice." ~ Anonymous Johnny and I would both tell you our boys, these amazing children we've been blessed by God with are the greatest gifts of our lives. Joshua and Micah are by far the most precious blessings to come from the merging of our lives and families. I often say I'd love to have a couple days a month with our children, as little boys again. Just one or two a days a month to experience our boys as the small little arrows they once were... to hold them, to brush their curly locks for a moment or cuddle up and read them bed time stories together one more time. If only we could right? For 20 years Johnny and I have raised our tribe, our arrows. Teaching them both to shoot straight, be humble, kind and to be fully and completely themselves. We have worked hard to keep them covered under a tent of unconditional love, stitched together by God's grace and forgive...

"Every empty bottle is filled with stories." ~ Anonymous Time is one of our most valuable possessions. It's fleeting and no matter how you look at time it's fluid, always moving forward. Time never really gives back instead time just reminds us it's already past by us. Stepping back, looking at my life as a whole I'm aware time stops for no one. At 43 years old I can see how quickly time has indeed continued to march on in-spite of all my protests. The reality is ,"life is a collection of moments." This has never been so real to me as this very moment. The truth is none of us are invincible, not one. Time takes from us what it will and when our time is spent, comes to collect us ready or not, young or old. I faced this reality much too young. I looked time in the eyes the day cancer came knocking on my door with her sickle and a pocket watch in hand.  Now I'm again realizing how precious time is, how it speeds by without a second thought...

“Behind every scar there is an untold story of survival.” ~anonymous My scars, each one of them though they may be old, purple, fading and spread out are still very present across my chest. I have scars most people could not imagine living with, more or less living through what caused them. I have been cut open and stitched up in ways unimaginable, put back together again and sent on my merry way. My scars are a living testament, a reminder I have faced death, battled the Beast and lived to tell the tale. I am not ashamed of my scars, no, they tell my story. I wake up each and every morning and face the mirror without as much as sigh. I see the mark of the Beast on my body. I am vividly aware of her handiwork, the art of breast cancer’s imprint and the impact on my life. I feel the phantom pains, the crazy reminders of a breast that once was but no longer exists. In those moments each and every morning staring into the looking glass I thank my Father for His unyielding s...

I have this cousin. Her name is Julie. She’s our family historian, the keeper of our genealogy on my mom's mother's  side. Now, that's a mouthful isn't it? Try saying that 3 times fast. Julie and I are opposite in many ways but we come from the same line of strong, independent women. Together you could say we’re a couple of nuts off the same family tree.  She’s my partner in crime, my co-conspirator, and collaborator in all things mischievous and roughish. We’re cousins by blood, sisters by heart and absolutely friends by choice. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Our grandmothers, the Bergman sisters, Marie, (she’s my middle name’s namesake) and Betty, were sisters. So in reality, we’re distant cousins. In fact we grew up as far apart as possible; she in Pennsylvania and myself in Texas.  Truthfully we never knew who the other was until 2012. When we met just four short years ago; we made up for lost time. Looking back, I don’t see how we haven’t known each oth...