As I step into 2026, I am letting go of what I once thought my business was supposed to be. The expectations. The structure. The idea that it had to look a certain way in order to be meaningful or successful.

Instead, I am practicing surrender. I am paying attention to what is quietly showing up rather than forcing what comes next.

Over the past year, I have felt called to listen more deeply around faith, surrender, service, abundance, forgiveness, and overcoming. Not as ideas to master, but as lived experiences. What I have come to understand is that faith is the core of my purpose. Every obstacle in my life has asked me to trust more deeply, even when I resisted that invitation.

For some time now, there has been a sense that I am meant to lead something meaningful. That awareness has felt daunting, and honestly, I have not always felt qualified for it. Yet again and again, things continue to appear on my path that gently confirm I am moving in the right direction. Not with loud certainty, but with steady reassurance. I am learning that gathering clarity does not require urgency.

One truth has become especially clear. Surrender energizes me. Striving drains me. When I push, I disconnect. When I listen, I feel guided.

A few years ago, losing my job challenged how I defined myself and what I believed was safe. At the time, I thought it would break me, financially and in how I saw myself. It did not. What it did instead was loosen my grip on identity, certainty, and control. That experience began teaching me how to trust beyond titles, roles, and outcomes. The lesson continues to unfold.

Alongside this, I have been practicing forgiveness in a deeper way, particularly with my mother. For more than twenty years, living with the reality of her schizophrenia has meant loving her from a distance. There is no relationship because the pain of her paranoia is something I cannot carry. Forgiveness, for me, does not mean forcing closeness. It means releasing expectation, releasing control, and choosing love without proximity. My prayer is that she may find peace, and that forgiveness can exist even when reconciliation cannot.

These experiences have shown me the same truth again and again. I am not meant to hold everything together by force. I am meant to lead with faith.

As I move forward, I feel most called to serve leaders and businesses from this place of grounded trust. To remind them that they are not alone. That faith can move mountains. That abundance is more than money. It is health, friendship, family, and the quiet blessings we are often too busy to notice.

The question I am holding as this year begins is simple. Where am I meant to serve? I do not have the full answer yet, and I am learning that faith does not require one.

If you are entering this season with uncertainty, grief, hope, or quiet courage, know this. You are not alone. Perhaps this year invites us to soften. To trust more deeply. To allow love to lead, even when the path is still unfolding.