LIFE, marriage, Reflective, RELATIONSHIPS, relentless journey


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Momentum. It can go either direction. For the past three months I haven’t done much writing. The truth is I haven’t known entirely what to say. I lost momentum.

A lot has been happening around here, and I tend to internalize my thoughts, the precise reason that I started to write to begin with. As of last week, my husband Chad left his job and has started a company of his own. (You can read his perspective and details here). It’s something I will have a hand in. Something we are building together. And it has all felt very big and out of my control. And we love control, don’t we?

In any case, this has consumed my thoughts, actions, hopes and prayers for quite some time now. Seems a little selfish really. What I have learned is that I’m not as big of a risk taker as I thought I was. Considering where I grew up, and where I am now, it would seem like I easily jump at the chance to make a big change. That I just say yes and deal with the details later. But that is so no the case.

The truth is, I’m terrified of big changes. I ask way too many questions, and repeat them too many times. I play every possible scenario in my head until I confuse even myself. I do everything but hand my cares to God and reach out to people for support. I hand over power to fear, instead of trusting that God will provide, and that Chad is more than capable. I wish I didn’t do that. I say I will be better next time. But fear often wins.

This change we have made came as no surprise. In fact it’s been nearly 9 years in the making. As long as I have known Chad I have known he is hard wired to run his own business. He has been chomping at the bit at the idea of it. An idea is easy to play out, dream about and put on a shelf. An idea isn’t reality until you pull the trigger. I’m comfortable with ideas. It is the execution that scares me. It’s the UNKNOWN that terrifies me. So when this idea became more of a reality I escaped to within. I stressed about the what ifs and maybes. Instead of leaning into grace, I grasped for control. 

But then there is grace. Grace is a beautiful thing. It is unexpected and often too good to be true. It is straight from the hand of God, in spite of us, not because of us. It can be easy to give and so very hard to receive. It actually often makes sense in hindsight, but it can sure be hard to hope for. 

The truth is I spend a lot of time worrying. And for what? It is paralyzing and wasteful. And it sucks all momentum. The truth is I have been scared to post again. Mostly because I wonder what the point is. Why am I doing this? Will people even read it? Will I be misunderstood? Has this been time well spent? 


Too many questions, too many times. I bet I’m not alone. What silence do you need to break? What fear do you need to replace with hope? What white knuckled grip of control do you need to release? 

For me, writing is a release. Regardless of who reads it, it nourishes my soul to let it all out. So in breaking the silence, my hope is to hope again. To fear less and to trust more. I think that’s what we all want.