Passionate About Scrapbooking

I still remember the day in August 2025 when our youngest daughter officially moved out.

She’s an artist, full of life and creativity, and the house had always been filled with her art classes, projects, and vibrant energy. When she left, the house didn’t just feel empty; it felt quiet.

Between Jeff and me, we have seven children in our blended family, ranging in age from 18 to 32. If you know anything about blended families, you know the beautiful, complicated, and sometimes messy struggles that come with it. We had spent a combined 32 years parenting. Decades of schedules, transitions, heartaches, and triumphs.

So honestly? Jeff and I were actually looking forward to this season. We were ready for the empty nest. We were ready for a little peace.

I was in the middle of my first year on the Stampin’ Up! 2025 Artisan Design Team, and I was finally going to dial into my business. I had the time to design classes, focus on social media, and really pour my heart into what I loved. We did some cleaning out, tended to our animals, and I settled into my craft room, ready for this new, exciting chapter.

But life rarely goes according to our carefully crafted plans.

The Storm in the Stillness

Just as the dust was settling on our empty nest, my stepdad, David, was diagnosed with brain cancer.

Just a few days before he went into the hospital late November, he and my mom had bought a new house. The plan was for them to move and enjoy their next chapter. Instead, everything turned upside down. I was trying to help my mom transition out of the family home where I grew up and into their new house, while navigating treatments and the terrifying uncertainty that comes with a cancer diagnosis.

Then, in the first part of December, David passed away from complications.

The grief was suffocating. I didn’t suddenly stop my Stampin’ Up! business, but I struggled. I struggled to maintain a regular schedule. I struggled to show up on social media. I struggled to balance the profound sorrow of losing David with the daily demands of life. It was chaotic, it was heartbreaking, and the struggle has been very real.

A Lifeline From the Very Beginning

During those dark months, I found myself retreating to the one place that has always been my safe harbor: my craft room.

When you are walking through grief and carrying the weight of someone else’s sorrow, you need an anchor. For me, that anchor has always been the Lord, and the space He has so often met me is at my crafting desk.

In fact, He brought paper crafting to me decades ago, right when I needed it most.

In 1997, I was in the middle of a very chaotic and dysfunctional first marriage. One day, while standing at the register of a JoAnn’s fabric store, a magazine caught my eye. It was called Creating Keepsakes. I picked it up, and through those pages, I discovered Dozens of Terrific Stamps—which later became Close To My Heart.

That magazine was a divine appointment. For the next 25 years, I was part of Close To My Heart. During the darkest, most difficult trials of my first marriage, paper crafting became my escape. It was the one place where I could find peace, reflection, and joy in the middle of profound dysfunction.

Even after my divorce in 2015, the chaos didn’t immediately end. I faced an extremely difficult custody battle over our youngest daughter. But God is so faithful. Shortly after my divorce, I met Jeff—truly the love of my life. After two years of long-distance dating, we were married in 2017, blending our beautiful, complicated families together.

Through every single one of those seasons—the dysfunctional marriage, the painful divorce, the custody battles, the joy of a new marriage, the blending of families, the passing of my dad, Close To My Heart shutting down, the empty nest, and now the grief of losing David—paper crafting has been my constant.

A New Chapter Unfolds

When Close To My Heart closed its doors on April 30, 2024, it felt like the end of an era. That community and those products had been such a constant through so many seasons of my life. But the Lord always has a plan, even when we can’t see the full picture.

On May 1, 2024, I made the transition to Stampin’ Up!, and it became a beautiful new beginning. I found a welcoming community and products that reignited my creative spark. What started as simply finding a new home for my crafting quickly blossomed into something more. Pouring my heart into this new chapter brought a fresh sense of purpose, especially as Bevyn was heading into her senior year and I was stepping into a quieter, more intentional season of life.

Then came a moment I never could have anticipated. In September 2024, I was selected for the Stampin’ Up! 2025 Artisan Design Team, and I was completely overwhelmed with gratitude. When that beautiful box arrived, I was in tears. It wasn’t just about the title; it was a profound reminder that even when one door closes unexpectedly, God is already preparing something beautiful on the other side. This journey as an Artisan has challenged me, inspired me, and allowed me to connect with so many incredible women who are also seeking joy through creativity.

To the Woman in the Messy Middle

I am sharing this entire, messy, beautiful story because I know I am not the only one walking through a season that looks nothing like the brochure.

Maybe you were looking forward to an empty nest, only to be hit with a health crisis. Maybe you are navigating the complexities of a blended family, enduring a painful marriage, fighting a custody battle, or just trying to keep your head above water while the waves crash around you.

I want to tell you that it is okay if you are struggling. It is okay if your plans have been derailed. The struggle is real, and you don’t have to pretend it isn’t.

But I also want to encourage you to find your anchor.

You don’t need hours of free time or a perfect plan. You just need a moment to breathe. Grab a stamp, a piece of paper, or a few photos. Let your hands create something, even if it’s small. Give yourself permission to step away from the chaos for just fifteen minutes and let the Lord restore a tiny piece of your joy through the simple act of creating.

He knew in 1997 that I would need an escape, and He knew in 2025 that I would need a place to grieve. We are all just works in progress, trusting the Ultimate Creator with our broken pieces.

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Creating with Jesus, crafting with joy.

Pamela