03/24/2025
I’m going to get raw and vulnerable for a minute—something I haven’t really done here before.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been to church.
I never stopped believing in the Lord—but I did fall away from Church. And over the past few years, I’ve been quietly struggling with my physical and mental health.
At the start of this year, I committed to what I called “my year of the mini project.” It began as a way to focus on our home, but it’s become something deeper—a renovation of me, too.
I started with two small shifts:
1️⃣Limit alcohol. I went without a sip from Jan 1 to March 8, and I haven’t had one since the 8th. Not because of a single moment—but because I needed clarity. Stillness. A stronger connection to myself.
2️⃣Getting ready every day. For a while, I only got fully ready if I was physically going somewhere. If I was working from home, it was the classic Zoom uniform: nice top, relaxed bottoms, slippers. But I realized that when I look good, I feel better. So now I show up for myself—even if no one’s going to see me. One day a week, I let that go. It’s a small act of grace that reminds me I can rest without unraveling.
What I didn’t expect was how these small changes made space for a whisper I’d been ignoring.
I’ve felt the pull to return to Church for a long time. I’ve felt the void. I just hadn’t listened.
Then Saturday night, I told Skott, “I think I want to go to church tomorrow.”Without hesitation, he said, “I’ll come.”
During Mass, a group of RCIA candidates (adults preparing to join the Catholic Church) were called forward for a blessing. Skott went through RCIA years ago—it was such a meaningful season for us both. Sitting there Sunday morning, it felt like a full circle moment. A gentle invitation back to something I’ve been missing.
I know faith looks different for everyone, and this might not be for everybody—but this is part of my journey. And it felt important to share.
I don’t believe it was a coincidence.
I believe it was a whisper from God.
A quiet nudge saying: Keep going. I see you. You’re not alone.
You’re home.