Description
Seeds are just the beginning.
Some stories bloom in dirt.
This one grew from the corner of a psychiatrist’s office.
Meet Frances, a wise and observant
houseplant who has quietly watched human lives unfold
from her pot in the corner—especially one life in particular.
Sharon is slowly unraveling under the weight of change,
grief, survival, and the pressure to keep going.
Frances has spent enough time watching humans to know
that what looks like standing still is not always
the absence of growth.
This is a soil-and-soul reflection on resilience,
healing, loss, humor, hope,
and the unseen roots we all carry.
A Plant Watches.
A Woman Tries to Survive.
❧
Frances
The plant who has seen more than anybody realizes.
She has endured droughts, movement, waiting,
pruning, and the indignity of human assumptions
about plants.
Frances understands that survival does not always
look impressive. Sometimes it looks like staying
rooted long enough for the next season to arrive.
Sharon
The woman trying to understand
what is happening to her life.
Sharon is carrying more than most people can see:
grief, change, questions, responsibility,
and the expectation that life should somehow
keep moving.
Her journey becomes the human soil where
Frances’s observations about patience,
survival, and unseen growth begin to matter.
For the Seasons When Easy Answers Are Not Enough.
🌱 A Plant’s Perspective
Frances notices the things humans rush past.
♡ Honest Reflection
Loss, survival, change, faith,
and the emotional work happening beneath the surface.
☀ Hope Without Pretending
Encouragement for hard seasons without demanding
that difficult things become easy.
☺ A Little Humor
Because sometimes the only reasonable response
to being human is to laugh.
This Book Does Not Ask You to Hurry Through the Hard Part.
It makes room for grief, reflection, humor,
faith, frustration, recovery,
and the strange truth that life can still
be growing while it feels completely still.
This Book May Be for You If…
✓
You are walking through grief,
change, or a season you never planned.
✓
You have grown tired of advice
that makes difficult things sound easy.
✓
You enjoy reflection that leaves room
for both faith and honest questions.
✓
You are a gardener who knows plants
have been teaching us more than horticulture.
✓
You care for other people
and sometimes forget that you are growing too.
✓
You need hope,
but not the kind that requires
pretending nothing hurts.
“I can’t do a chapter a week—when I start reading I can’t stop.
You have a real God-given gift for putting such hard feelings
into words to express them in a way of understanding them
and knowing what to do with them.
Your book came at a perfect time in my life.”
Roots of Reflection
Thoughts are seeds.
Naming them helps us understand
what may be taking root.
The companion reflection materials give readers
room to move from Frances’s observations
into their own questions,
experiences, and seasons of growth.
Keep something growing.
- Guided reflection prompts
- Garden-inspired reflection pages
- Space to write, dream, notice, and process
- Continued RootsOMG reflections through The COMpost
Stories. Soil.
Songs. Soul.
Author. Gardener. Nurse. Songwriter.
Eileen’s work keeps circling back
to one question:
What are you growing?
RootsOMG is where those parts of her life meet—
in gardens, books, music, reflection,
humor, faith, and ordinary life.
More stories about what survives and grows.
Literary fiction by Cisco Mills,
also available through the RootsOMG family.
Still Garden
When grief becomes a garden,
healing takes root in unexpected ways.
David inherits a house,
a garden,
and more grief than he knows how to carry.
Then Samantha—his mother’s old philodendron—
begins to speak.
Vera
A broken photographer.
A patient plant.
Five days that change everything.
After a fall leaves Chara stranded
on a canyon ledge,
the only living thing within reach
is a hosta growing from a crack in the stone.
❧
Growth Is Rarely Pretty.
It Is Still Possible.
Whether you are blooming,
wilting,
waiting,
recovering,
or simply trying to stay rooted—
there may still be important work
happening beneath the surface.