When Plans Change: A Note on Rest, Writing, and Grace

 Things are not going to plan for me in 2026. At least not so far.

Several of my family members are facing ongoing health challenges, and my dad, especially, has been in and out of the hospital. Caregiving, worry, logistics, and love all live close together right now, and they take more energy than I often expect.

Because of that, I’m taking a short hiatus from my podcast. At least a week, possibly up to two.

This pause wasn’t on my schedule. It doesn’t line up neatly with my goals or plans. But it is what I need.

Right now, I’m craving time with people who are simply okay being present, without expectations, explanations, or the need for conversation. I also need time alone. Time to walk. Time to reflect. Time to journal and pray. Time for small, healthy moments.

I want to be a good friend.
I want to be a good family member.
And part of that, right now, means honoring my boundaries.

A few days ago, I shared these words and photos on social media, and they capture where my heart is:

Seeking the beauty of God’s creativity in the foggy sunshine of morning, from the fourth floor of the hospital, with my mom, as we sit with and visit my dad.

I am thankful for beauty.
I am thankful for friends.
I am thankful for my husband’s hugs.
I am thankful for my daughters’ voices on the phone.
I am thankful for my church family, my sisters and brothers in Christ who lift me up, and pray with and for us.

I am thankful for this moment, seeking beauty and finding it, knowing God creates and provides all good, all hope, all love, all comfort.

And also knowing it’s okay to grieve, because Jesus wept.
It’s okay to feel anger, because Jesus turned over tables.
It’s okay to have boundaries, because Jesus went off by himself to pray.

The joy of the Lord isn’t plastic happiness smeared over the struggle. It’s digging down and feeling the pain, asking God for help and protection, trusting God even when it feels impossible, and waking up to a new day again.

This is truth I'm holding onto today, even as I am unsure whether my dad comes home from the hospital today after a six day stay there.

And because I feel like I have to let you know...

My upcoming poetry collection, To Speak, is still releasing in February. I’m approaching it more gently than I originally planned, but I am honoring all existing pre-orders through KDP and Draft2Digital. If you’ve already pre-ordered, thank you.

Writing will still be part of my days during this pause, not as work, not as output, but as something I need, the same way I need walking and quiet and prayer.

Thank you for your grace.
I’ll be back when I’m able.