Today we checked out of the place that's been our home for two years, and I wasn't ready to go. As we pulled away from the curb, I realized this goodbye mirrored something much bigger unfolding in my life—something I feel certain about but can't yet prove. Maybe trusting the process isn't about feeling fearless. Maybe it's about being honest about the fear and moving anyway, learning to believe in what you can't see before the evidence ever arrives.

Lately, life has felt like standing in a room filled with half-unpacked suitcases and unanswered questions. I like plans and timelines, but this season is teaching me trust. Sometimes we don't get clarity first—we move first, and clarity catches up later. Even exhausted, juggling work and motherhood, I'm still moving forward. Maybe we're not supposed to have it all figured out. Maybe we simply trust the next small step.