It’s easy to feel grounded when everything’s going your way. When the sun is out, your money’s flowing, your kids are thriving, your relationships are smooth, and your plans are unfolding like clockwork-it’s easy to say “I’m good. I’ve got this.”
But life doesn’t leave any of us in constant sunshine.
Eventually, the storm comes. Sometimes it shows up as heartbreak, betrayal, financial loss, illness, confusion, or the crumbling of something you thought would last forever. And when it hits, it doesn’t ask for your permission. It doesn’t care about your timeline. It doesn’t come gently-it comes to shake things up.
And as painful as it is, I’ve come to see this: the storm doesn’t come to destroy you, it comes to reveal you.
Storms strip away the superficial. They rip off the masks, they shake the false foundations, and they test every part of you that isn’t solid. They expose what’s real, what’s rooted, and what was never stable in the first place.
I’ve lived through a few storms. And not just a light drizzle, I’m talking soul-rattling, foundation-shaking storms that made me question who I was, what I believed, and if I was really built for this life I dreamed of. Storms that made me feel like I was drowning and blooming at the same time.
And what I discovered?
I had deeper roots than I thought.
Underneath the doubt, the grief, the chaos-there was something steady. Something unshakable. I found my strength in the surrender. My voice in the silence. My power not in the hustle, but in the stillness after the storm had torn everything down.
It’s in the storm that I learned how to pray with my whole chest.
It’s in the storm that I stopped performing and started becoming.
It’s in the storm that I realized I wasn’t here to survive, I was here to transform.
We don’t develop deep roots in perfect conditions. We grow them in the dark. In the pressure. In the unknown. In the moment where everything is uncertain and we choose—again and again, to anchor into something greater than ourselves.
So if you’re in the middle of your storm, I see you. You’re not weak. You’re not behind. You’re not broken. You are being invited into a deeper knowing of who you really are. And I promise you-when the storm passes (and it will), you will not be the same.
You’ll be stronger. Softer. Wiser. More grounded. More you.
Because the storm didn’t break you.
It revealed you.
And it revealed that your roots go deep.
Don’t give up-dry off and settle in!
Always rainbows after rain.
Sherri