Twenty-One Days

Last month, on May 22nd, I opened my new store in downtown Clare.

Rooted Wildflower came about because I recently settled back into my hometown of Clare, Michigan. I've always felt a bit like a wildflower myself, and as a hairstylist, I also happen to specialize in covering those roots.

I got the keys to my new space on May 1st, and by May 22nd I was opening the doors to my new business. Three minutes late, admittedly, but still! Twenty-one days from keys in hand to opening day, and I couldn't have been happier about it.

The store started as one of those brainstorms I often have in the middle of the night sometime during the last week of February. I remember exactly when because my husband, Tim, was in Germany for work. I vividly remember sitting in the dim light of my bedside lamp, pages of notes and scribbles spread across my lap. I snapped a photo and sent it to him with the message: "I have an idea!"

Tim replied, "I thought I heard a rumble."

Boy, has that rumble turned into an avalanche.

In just ten weeks, that middle-of-the-night idea became a fully stocked, fully functioning store. Not just the new and used bookstore I originally envisioned, but a special place filled with heart, soul, and community behind every handcrafted product on the shelves.

From the very beginning, as I excitedly explained this dream to friends and clients, I kept saying that it felt like this idea had wings of its own and I was simply the coordinator. The people who immediately came alongside me and supported this vision did so so quickly and so wholeheartedly that I truly believe only God could have been steering this ship. 🙏🏻

Every person I've met through this project has inspired me. Ideas have been shared and brainstormed. Coffee, coffee, and more coffee has been consumed. Somehow, everything I dreamed up came together even better than I imagined.

Were there bumps? Absolutely.

Were there tears? Many.

Were there questions and doubts? Every. Single. Day.

I would start each morning jumping out of bed, sending messages, and checking things off my to-do list. Then I'd end the day questioning everything, feeling insecure, and wondering if I was hearing Him correctly.

Even when things look like they're falling into place from the outside, there's often someone behind the scenes wrestling with doubt, putting out fires, and wondering if they've made a huge mistake.

Taking risks is scary. Sometimes it even feels selfish.

Taking a risk means sacrificing time, resources, energy, and finances. It means being less available to the people you love most. It can shake your confidence and stretch you in ways you never expected.

But my husband often says, "Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

I keep those words tucked away when I look at him and wonder if I'm making the right choices for our family.

Another thought keeps surfacing too - Let's see what this can do.

Patience has never been my strong suit. If I don't see immediate results, I tend to feel bored, frustrated, or like I've somehow failed. But time and maturity have taught me to quiet those insecurities and just keep going. Just keep showing up.

I am still very much in the development stage of discovering what this store will become. Most nights I go to bed with more unanswered questions than answered ones.

But I also have this deep sense that if I simply keep showing up and keep moving forward, this is going to become something really special.

I didn't read as much in May as I normally do, but one of the books I did finish was The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab.

One of my favorite quotes from the book was, "History is something you look back on, not something you really feel at the time. In the moment you're just living."

That quote resonated deeply with me this month because I am living through a season that feels significant. I'm making changes that will become part of my own history and, all too soon, part of my children's history as well.

Will their futures be impacted by the choices I'm making today?

And if so, will that impact be helpful or harmful?

Those are impossible questions to answer this early in the journey of Rooted Wildflower.

But every story we've ever read in a history book was once just someone living their life, making decisions, taking chances, and moving forward without knowing the outcome.

What I loved most about this book is that while it contains fantasy elements—immortality, magic, and gods—it is also deeply human.

At its core, it's a story about desire, fear, love, loneliness, and what it means to be remembered. Through the characters, you experience the emotions and vulnerabilities that connect all of us.

Thank you, V.E. Schwab, for creating such an entertaining story while weaving so many meaningful truths throughout its pages.

I would highly encourage you to move this book to the top of your TBR list.

Another quote that stayed with me was, "You must enter where you fear to tread."

That message resonates with many chapters of my life recently—both the ones I've already walked through and the ones I'm still navigating.

Growth lives in the places that scare us. It waits in the uncertainty, the unknown, and the risks we're hesitant to take.

It was the perfect book for May 2026.

What a month it has been.

Thank you for being part of this journey—my family, my friends, my hair clients, and all of the new friends I've met through Rooted Wildflower.

I am grateful for every one of you.

~ Serena