I’ve been thinking a lot about what it really means to trust God with big life decisions. Some seasons feel so clearly led by Him, and others leave me wondering if I’m listening or simply doing the best I can. This is the story of how God met us in both.

This morning didn’t go as planned, but it became a lesson in letting go, resting, and trusting that community doesn’t fall apart without me. Here’s what I’m learning.

Ever feel called to something scary? In this story, I share how God used Joshua 4, a jar of stones, and years of small miracles to give us courage during one of the biggest moves of our lives.

Hosting can feel like a lot—especially when your table isn’t even set yet. But lately, I’ve been reminded that what people really want isn’t perfection; it’s connection. My Gran showed me that. Her home was full of warmth, music, and the smell of something delicious, and everyone felt like family. In this post, I’m sharing how I’m learning to open my home with the same kind of love—and how God meets us right there in the messy, beautiful middle. 🍁

Sometimes the thing that interrupts our plans isn’t punishment — it’s preparation. This is the story of how God used a “whale season” in my life to slow me down, re-shape my obedience, and teach me what surrender really looks like.

I’ve learned that doubt doesn’t always mean I’m on the wrong path. Sometimes it’s just proof that I’m stepping into something meaningful. When I start questioning what God’s asking me to do, I remind myself that faith isn’t the absence of uncertainty—it’s choosing to move forward in the middle of it.

I’ve learned that “more is caught than taught.”
Our daughters are watching how we live — how we love, create, and trust God when life stretches us. This isn’t about perfection; it’s about modeling a life fully alive in Him.

I never thought of myself as someone who struggled with control—until I found myself pleading with God to change a situation I didn’t understand. Through our foster care journey, I learned what it really means to surrender and trust that His plans are better than mine. This story is a reminder to hold things loosely and believe that even when we can’t see the whole picture, God’s way is always best.

When we packed up our life in New Jersey and moved ten hours away with our five kids, I thought I was prepared for the change. But what I didn’t expect was how deeply I would crave the familiar — the people, the places, even the small routines that made life feel steady. It wasn’t just a move; it was a stretching of my heart. I found myself learning, in very real ways, that growth rarely happens in comfort. God was inviting us into something new, and even though it felt uncertain, He was faithful to meet us there — in the unfamiliar, the uncomfortable, and the in-between.

Moving can shake something deep within us — not just our routines, but our sense of belonging. This post is a reflection on what it feels like to step into the unfamiliar, how the ache for “home” lingers, and what time (and grace) are quietly teaching me about starting over.

When my family moved to South Carolina, I began noticing things I had never paid attention to before—abandoned cars on the highways, the steady hum of traffic, even the sounds in my own backyard. It was as if God gave me fresh eyes in this new season. What I realized is that He often uses change and transition to sharpen our spiritual senses. In this post, I share how moving opened my heart to see God’s presence in the everyday, how Scripture reminds us to “have ears to hear,” and how we can notice Him in both the quiet and the noise of life.

Moving from New Jersey to South Carolina has been a journey of learning what it means to create a new home and help my family find belonging. After twenty-five years up north, visiting again felt familiar yet strange—I love the people there, but my roots are shifting south. As a mom of five, I’m navigating this transition with patience, simple family rhythms, and a lot of grace. From planning easy meals when my husband travels, to saying “yes” to gymnastics after a ten-hour drive because my daughter longed for connection, I’m learning that home isn’t just about a place. It’s about showing up in love, teaching our kids about inclusion, and choosing to belong even when it’s uncomfortable.

In Part 2 of our move story, I share how we navigated different opinions, hard conversations, and surprising grace as God led us from New Jersey to South Carolina.

This fall, our family of seven took a leap of faith and moved from New Jersey to South Carolina. Overnight, nearly everything changed—schools, scenery, even the way people talk to one another. Leaving behind lifelong friends, family, and our church of 21 years wasn’t easy, but we felt God opening doors we couldn’t ignore.

Two months in, we’re already seeing blessings unfold. From new friendships to unexpected opportunities, we’re learning that when we let go in faith, God really does provide more than we could have imagined.

Have you ever wondered how God works in our lives? Honestly, I’ll never fully understand it, but I’ve seen His hand in powerful ways—especially when my family stepped out in faith to adopt. In this post, I share how we navigated the “dance” of trusting God’s plan while taking action, even when the path felt unclear and scary. Through prayer and small steps, we saw His perfect timing unfold in ways we couldn’t have imagined. I hope my story encourages you to reflect on your own journey. What’s one step of faith you can take today?

A small but impactful moment—my two-and-a-half-year-old daughter fell asleep on the couch by herself for the first time. This little milestone reflects years of navigating challenges, and deep unseen pain. These quiet, hard-earned wins remind me that everyone carries unseen battles. Strength and empathy come from embracing life’s struggles, not being afraid but learning to walk through step by step. May you find that strength today.

I wish I could say I'm better than this—sometimes, I am. On some days, the old car with squeaky brakes doesn’t faze me. But other times, like today, it brings up memories of my childhood, when we couldn’t afford much, and I feel embarrassed and triggered. Deep down, I know it doesn’t really matter. But I need to be honest with myself and confront it if I ever want to move past it. Maybe you can relate—not necessarily to the car, but to those moments in life that keep resurfacing, where you feel like you should have outgrown it, yet sometimes it still gets to you. This is my confession and attempt to bring it into the light.

Oh the power of writing it down! It’s amazing how revisiting our own words can provide such clarity and encouragement. I’m picking this blog back up as a personal journey of faith and understanding. Embracing the process, regardless of the audience, is incredibly fulfilling

If you’re anything like me, you may have struggled to compare your life to the lives of those around you. Perhaps you have trouble implementing everything you’ve read in personal development books. This is a reminder that your reality is unique. There is nothing wrong with you. You may just need a moment to write down your current reality and what success looks like given that reality on your terms. Be gentle with yourself!

For much of my life, I've found myself caught up in the pursuit of various things. I wish I could say that I was above being swept away by the materialism so prevalent in American culture. But time and time again, I've found myself chasing after possessions or achievement, only to be left feeling unsatisfied. True contentment, I've realized, doesn't come from material wealth. Instead, it comes from taking the time to slow down and reassess what truly matters. Embracing gratitude and appreciating the blessings in my life has brought me fulfillment in ways that possessions never could. Choosing to live a life that goes against the mainstream is difficult. It requires daily dedication and focus. I hope that you, too, can find the courage to live authentically, free from societal pressures and the pursuit of material wealth that always come up empty.