Wow. I am so thankful to have a moment to sit down and write this.

Life has felt like a whirlwind lately—in all the best ways, but still… a lot. Somehow, my two older girls managed to have their apartment leases end within one day of each other. Neither planned to stay where they were, and everything shifted all at once.

My younger daughter, Kali, and her daughter moved back home. We’ve spent the last few days moving boxes, rearranging rooms, and making space for them again. I cannot even begin to describe how full my heart feels having them here.

I have been so proud of her for stepping out at eighteen with a baby and building something of her own. And I am just as proud of her for recognizing that coming back home gives her more support, more margin, and more opportunity to grow into the future she wants for herself and her daughter. Having them here means we get to be more hands-on with sweet Astrid, and it gives Kali room to keep building her photography business.

At the same time, our oldest daughter—who got married back in September—is closing on her first home tomorrow. After falling in love with Savannah and walking through the ups and downs of the process, she and her husband are stepping into a home of their own.

Tomorrow morning, we are all caravanning across Georgia to help them get settled. I already know there will be tears.

I am overwhelmingly proud of her. Of her work ethic. Of her courage. Of the way she has built something stable and strong at such a young age. I am also deeply thankful, because there was a time when we were not sure she would even want a future, much less pursue one.

All of this is good. It is full and emotional and beautiful, and it carries weight.

When Fear Was Louder Than Reality

There was a time when I would have looked at all of these transitions very differently. I would have seen threats, potential loss, and all the ways things could go wrong.

For a long time, I suffered more from my imagination than I ever did from my reality.

Our reality had already been hard. In 2017, my mom died instantly in a car accident the day before my thirty-sixth birthday. In 2021, my stepdad passed away after a sudden cancer diagnosis. Between 2020 and 2022, my oldest daughter endured a life-threatening mental health battle. From 2021 to 2023, my younger daughter walked through a deeply painful relationship that resulted in her becoming a mother at sixteen.

Between those major moments were countless smaller disruptions that made the entire season feel relentless. Even as life began to settle, I found myself living with constant anxiety, panic, and dread. I spent hours in prayer because it was the only place where my mind would quiet.

And one day, in that quiet, God gave me clarity that changed everything.

The Weight of What Never Happened

He showed me that while we had endured real suffering, I had multiplied that suffering thousands of times over in my imagination. I was not only grieving what had happened. I was constantly imagining what might happen.

I was losing my children in my mind over and over again. I was replaying worst-case scenarios as if they were inevitable. I was living through outcomes that never came to pass, and my body responded as if they were real.

Our imaginations are powerful. They are a gift from God, designed for creativity, vision, and resourcefulness. We reflect Him when we use them well. But when they drift away from truth, they quickly become a place where fear grows. What I believed was preparation was actually multiplying my grief.

Taking My Imagination Captive

God showed me that taking my thoughts captive meant taking my imagination captive. It meant recognizing that I was allowing unreal scenarios to shape my emotions and my daily life. Yes, suffering had come. Yes, it had been hard. But the imagined versions of suffering were not offering protection or wisdom. They were only deepening my pain. Underneath all of that imagining was a belief that if I could think far enough ahead, plan enough, and anticipate enough, I could prevent what might come. That kind of control was never mine to carry.

What I Never Saw Coming

What I had never imagined was the depth of God’s presence in the middle of suffering. I had never imagined how near He would be, how steady, how faithful, or how gently He would carry us through what we could not carry ourselves.

My mom and stepdad are with their Savior. My daughter who once did not want to live now has dreams and direction. My daughter who became a young mother has a life filled with purpose and love.

None of that came from my ability to predict or prevent suffering. It came from God’s mercy meeting us right in the middle of it.

Staying Where God Has You

Our imaginations can help us build beautiful things. They can also lead us into fear, anxiety, and grief over things that are not real. When we are already walking through difficulty, the instinct to imagine every possible outcome can feel strong. It can feel wise. But it often pulls us away from the present moment and from the grace available there. God’s grace meets us in reality. It meets us in what is actually unfolding, not in the scenarios we create.

Looking back, I can see that I spent much of my life trying to avoid suffering without learning how to walk through it. Long-suffering is a virtue. It shapes us and roots us more deeply in Christ. When we allow our imagination to run ahead, we begin carrying burdens that were never given to us.

Your Next Step

If your mind keeps running ahead, trying to solve problems that have not even arrived yet, I understand that pull.

You are allowed to stay in today.

You are allowed to take your thoughts—and your imagination—and bring them back to what is true. God has grace for what you are actually walking through. He is present in the real moments of your life.

You do not need to rehearse every possible outcome.

You can remain anchored in what is real. You can receive what God is giving you today. And when tomorrow comes, His grace will meet you there, just as it always has.