Being Held in the Space in Between
Life-giving.
Discernment.
These are the words that have been circling my heart lately.
I’ve been sitting with the reminder that we are not meant to figure everything out on our own. That asking for help is not weakness, it is wisdom. Trusting the people who love us to hold us, support us, and witness us is sometimes the most faithful thing we can do.
For me, prayer has looked very simple these past few weeks. Two prayers, really:
Please help me. Please guide me.
Thank you for what already is.
I’m learning, again, not to push or force. Which is a little funny, because I recently wrote about my greatest lesson of 2025 being loosening my grip and surrendering. Clearly, I’m not finished with that lesson yet. Maybe I never will be.
It feels like one of those “Tell God your plans and He’ll show you His” moments. My vision became clouded. My lens wasn’t clear. What I thought was God’s direction, I now believe was my own will - disguised, misaligned, and quietly draining me.
It wasn’t until I truly couldn’t take it anymore that things shifted. My anxiety intensified in a way I hadn’t experienced before. If I’m being honest, this was the first time I’ve felt this kind of anxiety as a sober woman. In the past, I would have numbed or suppressed these feelings. This time, there was no escape - only presence and compassion.
The last month has been filled with trials, sleepless nights (and when I say sleepless, I mean no sleep), and deep depletion. And yet… something different happened.
Instead of retreating inward and trying to fix or navigate it all alone like I used to, I allowed myself to be supported.
I leaned on a priest for the first time in my life, where we spoke about discernment. I felt safe, seen, loved, and never judged.
I leaned on a dear friend - a sister - who has walked with me in a way I’ve rarely allowed before.
I leaned on my husband, who truly is my soulmate and steady anchor.
I leaned on my mom, letting her love and care for me in ways I hadn’t fully opened myself to before.
I was reminded of something I learned early in my sobriety, something I came back to recently as I celebrated 8 years sober from alcohol on January 8th:
The antidote to addiction is connection.
For so long, my addiction kept me isolated. Now, connection feels life-giving.
I also had a coffee date with a friend - a fellow coach and, as she reflected back what she heard (and what I wasn’t saying), it felt as if the Holy Spirit was speaking directly through her. I remember listening, almost outside of my body, knowing with deep clarity that I could no longer keep doing what I was doing. A change was required. And I am answering that call.
I share all of this not because I have it figured out but because I believe discernment is something we live inside of, not something we rush through.
If it weren’t for my relationship with God, my support system, and the hope I still feel in my heart, I’m not sure I would have had the capacity to write this week. That’s how depleted I was.
My hope in sharing this is that you might see a piece of yourself here, or think of someone you love. Please know you are not alone. I am praying for you. I am here for you. And, if someone in your life needs a check-in, reach out to them. Be the light. Be the ripple.
The world feels heavy right now, but I believe deeply in our capacity to come together - to support, love, and encourage one another through the darkness.
Before closing, I want to leave you with a prayer that has anchored me again and again these past few weeks. Save it. Hold it close. Return to it when you need.
The Serenity Prayer
God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
A Gentle Reflection for You
You might take a few quiet moments this week and ask yourself:
Where am I being invited to ask for help instead of carrying this alone?
What am I trying to force that may be asking for surrender?
What can I give thanks for right now, even in the uncertainty?
Let these questions sit with you - no fixing required, just curiosity and compassion.
Lastly, I want to circle back to the idea that’s been stirring in my heart. I’m gently exploring the idea of a bi-weekly, faith-based Zoom gathering. I’ve had some interest and I want to share a bit more of what I’m envisioning. A space for connection, reflection, encouragement, and support - beginning with a grounding practice or meditation, followed by reflective questions, journaling, and shared conversation.
In my experience, profound healing and growth happen when we witness one another in community. I feel called to help hold that space.
This is still unfolding but, if you feel curious or sense a nudge, simply reply to this email. I’d also love to hear what you might be looking for in a group like this. And, if someone comes to mind who may benefit, sharing this with them is one of the simplest acts of care.
Thank you for witnessing me in my messy, uncertain becoming.
I see you. I hear you. And I hope you know you are deeply loved. Until next time.
