July Reflections: Freedom, Faith, and the Quiet Beauty of Belonging

Today is already almost mid-July, and I can’t help but pause and take a deep breath.

I don’t know if it’s the warm air, the long days, or the energy of summer — but my heart has been overwhelmed with reflection, gratitude, and a deep sense of belonging. The 4th of July just passed, and instead of big celebrations or travel plans, my family chose something different: we simply existed in gratitude. And it reminded me once again what freedom truly means.

Since 2011, I’ve called the United States my home. I still remember the day I arrived — uncertain, wide-eyed, and filled with both fear and hope. I had come from Nepal, a country rich in culture and love, but one where a woman’s voice often isn’t heard. A place where freedom is spoken of, but not always lived.

Fast forward to today — I live in Roseville, Minnesota, where I’ve spent the last 15 years building a life from scratch. And every single day, I thank God for this community that embraced me. For this country that gave me space to heal, grow, and dream. It hasn’t been easy. But it’s been sacred.

Lately, I’ve heard people around me say how sad or afraid they feel. The news is heavy. The conversations are filled with uncertainty. And I hear them — I really do. I’ve felt it too. But there’s also a voice deep within me that says, everything will be okay. This isn’t a naive kind of hope — it’s a hope rooted in experience.

It’s the hope of a woman who once lived in fear of judgment but now walks in freedom. It’s the hope of a business owner who once didn’t know where to begin, but now owns a boutique filled with love, culture, and purpose. It’s the hope of a mother who once felt like a stranger but now is raising children in a place where dreams are possible.

This year, we closed Namaste Brows and Boutique for four days around the 4th of July. And let me tell you — that in itself is a blessing. I get to decide when I open, when I rest, and when I spend time with my family. We didn’t throw a party or travel far. Instead, we spent time with friends — friends from all walks of life, backgrounds, cultures, and religions. We shared meals. We laughed. We talked about life. We just were. And that, to me, is the purest form of freedom. The ability to simply be yourself, surrounded by people who love you for exactly who you are.

I don’t say all this to pretend that everything is perfect. It’s not. But I’ve trained my heart to focus on the blessings — even the smallest ones. I say thank you every night with my children. For electricity. For clean water. For warm showers. For the internet. For a working car. For a roof over our heads. For food in the fridge.

These are things I once prayed for. When I lived in Nepal, I dreamed of owning a scooter. I never did. Today, I drive a beautiful car that carries my family safely every day. How can I not be thankful?

People ask me, “Why are you always so joyful?” And I tell them, “Because I see my life as a gift. Because I remember where I came from. Because I don’t take this for granted.”

Even the simple conversations I’ve had with customers this week have felt different. I asked many of them, “What does the 4th of July mean to you?” Most answered, “Time with family. Rest. Appreciation. Gratitude.”

And I agree — it’s not just fireworks and flags. It’s the celebration of the freedom to love who you love, to build what you believe in, to speak your truth, and to dream bigger than your circumstances. But I’ve also been asking myself some hard questions: Why are so many of us unhappy? Why do we focus on what’s broken more than what’s beautiful? Why are the headlines filled with anger and fear instead of hope and compassion?

Maybe we can’t fix everything. But we can each do our part.

We can be kind. We can pray for our leaders. We can listen more and judge less. We can give thanks for the blessings we already have. We can raise children who are grateful, not entitled. Who build up, not tear down. Who recognize the value of freedom and responsibility.

I may sound idealistic, but I believe this with all my heart: if each of us took our role seriously — as neighbors, as community members, as humans — we could leave this world better than we found it.

This is the energy I’m holding onto this July. So, as we continue through this month, I invite you to take inventory. Not of what you’re lacking, but of what you already have. Not of what’s going wrong, but of what’s going right. Not of who’s to blame, but of how you can help.

We are so lucky to live in this country. It is not perfect — but it is full of opportunity. And that’s something I will never stop being thankful for.

From my heart to yours,

Jeena Gurung Vomhof

Founder,

Namaste Brows and Boutique

A proud immigrant, a devoted mother, a grateful American