The first half of 2026 has been about growth, faith, and listening.
Listening to my Creator.
Listening to my body.
Listening to the quiet messages I sometimes rush past.
I often say God and I are co-creators of my life and my business. I believe that deeply. But I also know this about myself: when I think God is not moving fast enough for me, I am tempted to take on His work and mine.
Bad idea.
And I know better.
But knowing better does not always mean we do better.
There are some things I have to keep my hands off of and allow God to do what God does best. Faith means trust. And trust requires patience.
That has been one of my biggest reminders this year.
In August of 2025, I had a medical scare. I am grateful to say it is under control, but it got my attention. I had been doing more and being quiet less.
And that is not the way we are designed to live.
We are human beings, not human doings.
That sounds simple, but living it takes practice.
We must learn to PAUSE before doing everything. Before speaking. Before reacting. Before rushing. Before deciding. Before assuming. Before carrying what was never ours to carry.
Pausing gives us space to think first.
Pausing gives us room to breathe.
Pausing allows us to reflect on what is best moving forward instead of reacting and making things worse.
The more we practice pausing, the better we become at blocking out the noise around us. And there is a lot of noise. Noise from the world. Noise from other people. Noise from fear. Noise from pressure. Noise from our own thoughts.
The goal is to live from the inside out, so we can hear ourselves think.
And sometimes, the body speaks before the mind is ready to listen.
At the beginning of May, I woke up one morning incredibly stiff in my neck and upper body. I could barely move. It was painful. I could not turn my face from left to right.
A hot mess, I was.
Miserable.
But I paused.
And in that pause, I remembered that years ago, I used to go regularly to a chiropractor. I was a runner then, and she helped keep my body in alignment.
That thought stayed with me.
I had been out of alignment with my spirit last August. Maybe now my body was showing me that it, too, was out of alignment.
So I found a new chiropractor.
During my exam, she just kept shaking her head. My body had been holding more than I realized.
During treatment, she would say, “Relax your shoulders.”
Of course, my shoulders were practically sitting above my ears.
Fast forward to today. It was my first time seeing my trainer in six weeks. The first thing he said to me during the first exercise was, “Relax your shoulders.”
He has been telling me that forever.
But today was different.
Today, I paused and really heard him.
I relaxed my shoulders before I began lifting.
And what a difference.
I left feeling well.
I left feeling relaxed.
Now, when I am sitting at my computer and my neck starts getting tight, I pause. I relax my shoulders. I sit for a few minutes and slowly move my head from side to side.
That pause has become instruction.
That pain has become a teacher.
This has been an amazing six months, and I am grateful, even for the discomfort, because it has reminded me to pause.
To breathe.
To listen.
To trust.
To stop doing God’s work and mine.
To relax my shoulders.
So here is my mid-year invitation to you:
What has your body been trying to tell you?
What have you been carrying that may not belong to you?
Where are your shoulders sitting right now?
And what might change if you paused before moving forward?
The second half of the year does not have to be rushed. It can be intentional. It can be calmer. It can be guided from the inside out.
Faith means trust.
Trust means patience.
And sometimes the most spiritual thing we can do is simply pause, breathe, and relax our shoulders.