A few years ago, I felt split in two. On one hand, the Lord had called me into ministry, and I had spent years training, studying, writing, and teaching the Word. On the other hand, I loved pretty paper and graphic design, and I had built up a pretty successful little side hustle designing cards, address stamps, invitations, and custom stationery.
But it just wasn't working anymore. Constantly dividing my time and attention between the two was wearing on me, and something had to give.
That's how Muscadine Press was born. It's a marriage between my calling to help women study Scripture and my love for good design and pretty paper.
The Dwell Journal was our first and remains our most popular product. Designed for the sole purpose of giving women a simple and easy guide to help make the most of their quiet times, it's near and dear to my heart. I had 600 journals printed that first go round, and though it seemed big and scary at the time, here we are just a little ways down the road nearly completely sold out.
To some businesses, 600 journals is a drop in the bucket. But to me, it's 600 invitations for moms, daughters, sisters, and friends to draw near to the Lord and sit with him a while. And that's pretty amazing.
I've spent the past few months researching printers to partner with as we move forward, and I'm so excited to say that we're getting close! I'm dreaming of new covers and ways to make the Dwell Journal even better and can't wait to share it all with you over the coming months.
Thank you for all your support and encouragement! I never would have made it this far without you. You're the reason I do what I do, and I'm so grateful for the privilege to serve you in this way.
So thanks. I think you're pretty spectacular. Now, let's go cultivate faithfulness together.
Given the option between a life of ease and a life of suffering, I'll take the the easy road every time. Yes please to the good life. Hard pass on the hardship. But Jesus isn't like me. He knew what was to come, and he walked toward it with eyes and arms wide open.
Here lately, every time I hear the familiar chords of an old hymn at church, tears prick my eyes, and it's a real struggle not to ugly cry in the middle of the sanctuary. It's the darnedest thing. Given the sidelong glances she gives me every time it happens, I'm pretty sure that our youngest daughter is seriously worried about me.