For much of my life, I believed clarity would come through effort. Work harder. Think longer. Plan better. Stay faithful. Keep moving. But over the past year, I’ve begun learning something different.
Some of the most important shifts in our lives do not arrive with certainty. They arrive as a quiet stirring. An invitation. A persistent feeling that something no longer fits, even when what you have built is good. I’ve been holding a few questions in the midst of my most recent career pivot:
- How many doors has God opened that I have ignored or simply not seen?
- How may we be preventing an evolution by holding onto what has been?
- What does it look and feel like to be fully committed to something and allow space for God to work and things to evolve?
- Why are we so scared of pivots or endings?
- What is this teaching me and how is it changing me?
It was late in the summer of 2025 that something started to shift. I’m still not sure I can name exactly what, but because of the journey I’d been on to consult with God and spend time in prayer, I knew I needed to listen.
This time was different in that I allowed myself to stay deep within and explore the unknown. Instead of searching for answers, I sat patiently in prayer, waiting for them to be revealed. I worked hard to remain aligned with my heart and continued inviting God to show me the next right step.
As time went on, I started to understand a few things: God was calling me closer to Him. He was giving me more and more opportunities to discuss faith with people through my coaching practice and in other social spaces. And during my sabbatical, He revealed to me that my identity and my work were “beyond” The Restoration Project. (Beyond had already told me it was my word of the year.)
I wasn’t sure what that last part meant, even after my sabbatical and returning to my normal rhythms and routines of life and work in late January 2026, but I felt so much freedom and peace in it. For many years, I had assumed The Restoration Project was my calling and purpose.
So many people told me how lucky I was to have found a way to create a living and develop deep impact around what I was good at and passionate about. I have certainly felt blessed throughout the entire journey of starting and building TRP. And in it all, I’ve been fortunate to work alongside people I care deeply about and genuinely enjoy.
On paper, 2026 was going to be the best year yet. I had never had more clients that I loved, the impact within our work was amazing, momentum continued to build, and I was comfortable knowing I was good at what I do. Writing the book, Take It All Apart: How to Live, Lead, and Work with Intention, and watching it take off in the market had opened so many new doors and created opportunities for deeper impact in spaces we were already serving.
And yet, something still felt a little “off.”
In the uncertainty, I remained faithful to the practices that keep me connected to God.
We began making adjustments at TRP that felt right and good. They allowed more autonomy and freedom for everyone involved as we started focusing on how each of us wanted to contribute, create, and make an impact. Multiple visions and sets of goals tied to one shared purpose (bottom up), rather than the traditional planning approach that started from a singular vision (top down).
This new way felt emergent, exciting, and a little uncomfortable. As we moved forward, each of us was given permission to think differently about who we are, what we want, and why we do what we do. In these conversations, it became clear that we had all evolved in ways we hadn’t anticipated, opening space for each of us to consider possibilities we never had before.
As I personally spent time with God considering the future of my own coaching and consulting practice, there was little there in terms of vision. Of course, I could keep doing what I was doing and be happy and successful. Maybe that was simply it.
Then an invitation came.
For the past year plus, I had been involved as a volunteer on the planning commission for the Journey in Faith process our Archdiocese of Dubuque was undergoing. We were in a challenging time, faced with the realities of needing to rethink our structure and approach.
I enjoyed and was grateful for my time on the planning commission because I got to witness firsthand the care, passion, and competence of our Archdiocesan leadership. As we moved through the process, my heart was drawn to and excited about the work that would come next.
After the extensive information gathering, listening, and decision-making…then what?
But that wasn’t my role.
My volunteer time ended as we announced the pastorate formations, but I continued thinking about how I might be involved in what came next.
The Archdiocesan leadership team determined through this process that they needed a Director of Leadership Formation to provide vision, design, and oversight for the ongoing formation of clergy, parish, and Archdiocesan leaders. When I learned this, I felt God clearly tapping me on the shoulder to move through the process.
It didn’t make much sense in the worldly way of considering my options, but God’s call was clear. So I took the first steps with an open heart and mind, trusting that whatever came next would be revealed as I continued moving and stayed close to God.
I updated my resume. I filled out an application. I went to my interview.
I arrived open to whatever happened.
Through this process, it became clear that my heart was drawn to this role, this team, and this vision. When an offer came, I went to adoration to pray.
Although I was excited about the opportunity, I loved what I was doing and had never loved it more. So I desperately asked God: “Are you really asking me to surrender all of this? Why would you have given me all of this just to let it go?”
He answered so clearly: “I have given you all these opportunities and experiences to prepare you for this one.”
That was confirmed when, just hours later, I was speaking to a friend who spoke almost those exact same words to me. And so I surrendered and did the thing that didn’t make much sense to me or to some others around me.
In some ways, it was scary and destabilizing, but through it all I have continued to feel peace.
As time goes on, we transition things, and I wind things down, there is a sense of loss and sadness as I am surrounded by endings. At the same time, I see new beginnings emerging and feel excitement and hope for what is ahead.
As I sit here in the in-between, I’m allowing all of it to exist, and God continues revealing.
All I know about this next chapter is that it will bring me closer to Him.
I have no ideas or expectations about what is ahead. I’m excited to step into a space of doing what I do best—uplifting and empowering others in a time of transition.
The uncertainty is no longer a source of fear, but one of grateful expectation. I cannot wait to see what happens and what God does. Maybe that’s what this is all about.
Freedom to be here, where my feet are. Freedom to be connected to God and trust that, in His time, He will reveal the next right step. Freedom to love people in the midst of uncertainty. Freedom to lead in ways that Jesus modeled for us. Freedom to surrender it all to the One who gave His all for us.
I love control, but God is changing me. Day by day, I am coming to love the freedom of surrender even more.