The Blog
how a gap year, a dinner party, and a whole lot of prayer turned into a floral studio
Hi. I’m Bekah.
And somehow… I own a flower business now? Wild.
I grew up in Northwest Georgia — the kind of small town where you know everyone’s dog’s name, and somehow every girl is either engaged or selling houses by 22. And no matter how much I wanted it to be.. that was not my story. A bit about me — I am very much a visual planner. I had my whole life planned out on my Pinterest board at the ripe age of 13. The layout of my dream home was drawn in my purple sketchbook. By 22 I would be graduated and engaged straight out of college, and the following year I would be married so that I could start with kids by 23-24. I would have three kids and adopt a fourth. We would have 4 dogs, one for each kid. Get the picture?
To anyone living in the hustle culture of America, they would have noticed one thing missing from my plan.
What was my plan for a Job?
Come to find out it wasn’t the job that was missing at all.
I always knew I was meant to create something, but I didn’t know exactly how that looked. I just knew I felt most like myself when I was making things — painting, designing, cupcake decorating, dreaming up ideas that didn’t quite exist yet. I just assumed I would figure it out along the way.
Then college actually happened. And when I say it was rough, I mean like… couldn’t-get-out-of-bed, crying-in-the-shower kind of rough. So I took a gap year. Spoiler alert: I never went back. Everyone looking at my life through a tiny screen decided I had fallen off the face of the earth. And they were kind of right.
I believed I wasted all of my potential. And if you thought college was bad… the “gap year” took me to rock bottom — a story for a different time. But it was there at rock bottom where I found the feet of Jesus.
That year off turned into three years of working in restaurants, dodging the “so what are you doing with your life?” questions. At some point I had plans of moving to Florida and going to real estate school. I was living life with Jesus but I hadn’t quite found my job calling yet. I found myself praying the same prayer over and over again: God, please. Just show me what You want me to do.
And then one day, while helping my boss throw together some flower arrangements for a dinner party — nothing big, just grabbing stems and putting them in vases — something clicked. No music. No noise. Just me and the flowers and this weird, still kind of sacred peace I hadn’t felt before.
It was like the world slowed down, and God whispered, this. And honestly? That whisper hasn’t stopped since.
I started dreaming about flowers. Like actually dreaming. It felt random and kind of ridiculous, but it also felt… right. And then little puzzle pieces started falling into place — the kind you only notice when you look back. Like realizing my grandfather was a florist for 50+ years. I mean this literally runs in my blood. Or watching doors open that I didn’t even know I was knocking on. I dove face first. I asked God to close the doors if this wasn’t for me. I never hit the pavement, so I took that as a sign to keep pressing the gas. The final piece felt like my sister asking to help build this business with me. It only made sense. She’s been my biggest cheerleader for as long as I can remember. My longest friendship. My safest space to express my deepest fears and my wildest dreams. In the beginning when I told people with opinions I valued, they raised their eyebrows. Sort of laughed with out verbally making the noise. I almost wonder if I hadn’t brought this idea to her if I would have given in to the other voices. Because the old me, she tended to do that often. There is no one else I would truly enjoy sharing this dream with.
I struggled with the name. To the point where everything else was in place to announce it to the world except the name. And by the world I mean my 3,000 instagram followers. Late Bloomers came out of a journal entry. I wrote it during one of those “everyone is doing something with their life and I’m still figuring it out” spirals. I felt late to everything — career, calling, confidence. But now I see it differently. Some things just bloom slower. And that doesn’t mean they’re behind. It means they’re being planted, rooted, watered.
If I hadn’t experienced rock bottom, I never would have found His feet. Or realized at His feet is the highest place I could ever reach.
The job wasn’t the missing piece in my “10 year plan”.
Jesus was.
The whisper He shared wasn’t to satisfy my wants here on this earth.
It was an invitation to make this “job” my ministry.
And I put “job” in quotations because it never feels like work.
Even after coming down from the high of announcing to what felt like the world.
Even after the long nights into early mornings of wedding prep.
Even after the unexpected tears and stress
I have never considered this my job.
It is my gift from Jesus.
My creative outlet I’ve always longed for.
My ministry I have been called to.
So here we are. Two sisters. One dream. A little flower studio called Late Bloomers. Built on faith, built in the waiting, built for the beauty of what is becoming.
If you’re in a season where everything feels slow and confusing and like everyone else is already blooming…
Please take it from me: You are not behind. God’s just doing something deep.
Thanks for being here. Truly.
This is just the beginning. One bloom at a time.
xo, Bekah
Hi. I’m Bekah.
And somehow… I own a flower business now? Wild.
I grew up in Northwest Georgia — the kind of small town where you know everyone’s dog’s name, and somehow every girl is either engaged or selling houses by 22. And no matter how much I wanted it to be.. that was not my story. A bit about me — I am very much a visual planner. I had my whole life planned out on my Pinterest board at the ripe age of 13. The layout of my dream home was drawn in my purple sketchbook. By 22 I would be graduated and engaged straight out of college, and the following year I would be married so that I could start with kids by 23-24. I would have three kids and adopt a fourth. We would have 4 dogs, one for each kid. Get the picture?
To anyone living in the hustle culture of America, they would have noticed one thing missing from my plan.
What was my plan for a Job?
Come to find out it wasn’t the job that was missing at all.
I always knew I was meant to create something, but I didn’t know exactly how that looked. I just knew I felt most like myself when I was making things — painting, designing, cupcake decorating, dreaming up ideas that didn’t quite exist yet. I just assumed I would figure it out along the way.
Then college actually happened. And when I say it was rough, I mean like… couldn’t-get-out-of-bed, crying-in-the-shower kind of rough. So I took a gap year. Spoiler alert: I never went back. Everyone looking at my life through a tiny screen decided I had fallen off the face of the earth. And they were kind of right.
I believed I wasted all of my potential. And if you thought college was bad… the “gap year” took me to rock bottom — a story for a different time. But it was there at rock bottom where I found the feet of Jesus.
That year off turned into three years of working in restaurants, dodging the “so what are you doing with your life?” questions. At some point I had plans of moving to Florida and going to real estate school. I was living life with Jesus but I hadn’t quite found my job calling yet. I found myself praying the same prayer over and over again: God, please. Just show me what You want me to do.
And then one day, while helping my boss throw together some flower arrangements for a dinner party — nothing big, just grabbing stems and putting them in vases — something clicked. No music. No noise. Just me and the flowers and this weird, still kind of sacred peace I hadn’t felt before.
It was like the world slowed down, and God whispered, this. And honestly? That whisper hasn’t stopped since.
I started dreaming about flowers. Like actually dreaming. It felt random and kind of ridiculous, but it also felt… right. And then little puzzle pieces started falling into place — the kind you only notice when you look back. Like realizing my grandfather was a florist for 50+ years. I mean this literally runs in my blood. Or watching doors open that I didn’t even know I was knocking on. I dove face first. I asked God to close the doors if this wasn’t for me. I never hit the pavement, so I took that as a sign to keep pressing the gas. The final piece felt like my sister asking to help build this business with me. It only made sense. She’s been my biggest cheerleader for as long as I can remember. My longest friendship. My safest space to express my deepest fears and my wildest dreams. In the beginning when I told people with opinions I valued, they raised their eyebrows. Sort of laughed with out verbally making the noise. I almost wonder if I hadn’t brought this idea to her if I would have given in to the other voices. Because the old me, she tended to do that often. There is no one else I would truly enjoy sharing this dream with.
I struggled with the name. To the point where everything else was in place to announce it to the world except the name. And by the world I mean my 3,000 instagram followers. Late Bloomers came out of a journal entry. I wrote it during one of those “everyone is doing something with their life and I’m still figuring it out” spirals. I felt late to everything — career, calling, confidence. But now I see it differently. Some things just bloom slower. And that doesn’t mean they’re behind. It means they’re being planted, rooted, watered.
If I hadn’t experienced rock bottom, I never would have found His feet. Or realized at His feet is the highest place I could ever reach.
The job wasn’t the missing piece in my “10 year plan”.
Jesus was.
The whisper He shared wasn’t to satisfy my wants here on this earth.
It was an invitation to make this “job” my ministry.
And I put “job” in quotations because it never feels like work.
Even after coming down from the high of announcing to what felt like the world.
Even after the long nights into early mornings of wedding prep.
Even after the unexpected tears and stress
I have never considered this my job.
It is my gift from Jesus.
My creative outlet I’ve always longed for.
My ministry I have been called to.
So here we are. Two sisters. One dream. A little flower studio called Late Bloomers. Built on faith, built in the waiting, built for the beauty of what is becoming.
If you’re in a season where everything feels slow and confusing and like everyone else is already blooming…
Please take it from me: You are not behind. God’s just doing something deep.
Thanks for being here. Truly.
This is just the beginning. One bloom at a time.
xo, Bekah
August 26, 2025
This is inspiring! I’ve been a florist for years, but your words inspire me to listen to God about His plans for me. Thank you for being so open about your journey!