Feeling Stuck?

Feeling Stuck? Maybe You’re Not Waiting for the Right Time.. Maybe you keep telling yourself someday. Someday when there’s more money. Someday when the kids are older. Someday when life feels less chaotic. Someday when you feel more confident. Someday when it all finally makes sense.

And on the surface, those sound like practical reasons. Responsible reasons. Even wise reasons. But if we’re being honest, sometimes “someday” becomes a place we hide. A beautifully decorated waiting room for the life we actually want.

I know because I’ve lived there too.

Maybe You’re Not Actually Stuck

Sometimes we tell ourselves we’re stuck because it feels safer than admitting what’s really happening. Sometimes stuck is not circumstance. Sometimes it’s fear.

Fear of getting it wrong. Fear of failing your kids. Fear of what people will think. Fear of leaving what’s familiar. Fear of trusting yourself. Fear of trusting God.

Sometimes it’s comfort. Not because life feels good, but because it feels predictable. And predictable can be seductive. Even when it’s quietly draining the life out of you.

Sometimes it’s perfectionism. The belief that before you move, you need:

• more money
• more clarity
• a better plan
• more confidence
• fewer unknowns

As if life ever hands those things over in neat little boxes.

Sometimes it’s waiting for permission. Permission from your spouse. Your family. Your friends. The internet. A sign. A perfect timeline.

But maybe what you’re really waiting for is permission from yourself. To want something different. To choose something different. To admit that the life that “works” may no longer fit.

That’s not failure. That’s honesty.

When “Normal Life” Didn’t Fit Anymore

After our years serving with YWAM in Hawaii, Mexico, and Panama, we came back home to Canada. We told ourselves it was temporary. We needed to regroup. Sort things out. Rebuild.

We stepped back into what most people would call normal life. Jobs. Routine. Stability. Predictability.

And from the outside, it looked responsible. Maybe even successful.

But inside, something felt off. We stayed longer than we were meant to, layering our fear in practical language. We had reasons. Good ones. Children. Finances. Work. A business I had poured myself into. Warren’s job. A newborn. Exhaustion.

All of it was real.

But underneath the reasons was something deeper. A quiet knowing that we were not meant to stay where it was comfortable just because it was comfortable. I kept feeling pulled in two directions: the desire to travel and the desire to use storytelling and social media in a way that serves God’s kingdom.

That pull would not let go. And sometimes when God keeps nudging, the discomfort isn’t punishment. It’s invitation.

The Fear Was Real

Let’s not romanticize this. This was not a glamorous leap. We sold everything again. Again. I walked away from a candle company I had worked incredibly hard to build. I left my role as market director.

Warren stepped away from his work for a season of paternity leave. We were postpartum. Emotionally fried. Physically exhausted. Financially unsure.

The fear running through my mind sounded like this:

What if this fails? What if we end up in another country with our children and no way home?

That fear was loud.

And honestly? It still didn’t magically disappear when we left. Courage is rarely the absence of fear. It’s movement in the presence of it. Sometimes faith looks less like certainty and more like trembling obedience. Fifty-one percent faith. Forty-nine percent fear. Still walking.

What Stuck Really Cost Us

This is the part people don’t talk about enough. Staying stuck costs something too.

It costs:

• time
• peace
• presence
• wonder
• the moments that do not come back

One of the clearest moments for me was realizing our oldest son was now too old to trick-or-treat. It hit me in a way I can’t fully explain. Childhood is moving whether we move or not. There is no perfect moment waiting for us. But there is a window. And it closes faster than we think. That realization made the decision sharper.

Even if this only gave us a few months of extraordinary family life, it was worth choosing. Because time with our children is not something we get back.

What If Stuck Is Just Fear in Disguise?

Maybe the thing you’re calling stuck is actually grief. Grief for the life you thought you were supposed to want. Grief for the version of yourself that kept choosing safety over alignment. Grief for the years spent postponing what your heart has quietly known.

I felt this deeply as I shut down my candle business that I poured hours of work into and walked away from my position as the market director for The Mom Market. It was hard to say goodbye to something that did bring me joy and that I was genuinely good at.

That grief deserves tenderness. Not shame.

You are not behind. You are not broken. You are not weak because you’re scared. You are simply standing at the edge of something that matters. Fear often grows at the border of meaningful change.

A Tiny First Step

Please do not read this and think your first step needs to be “sell everything and leave the country.” That’s not the point that I’m trying to make. The point is movement. One tiny brave thing.

Maybe that looks like:

• taking a weekend trip as a family
• researching one destination
• journaling what you actually want
• talking honestly with your spouse
• running the numbers
• testing homeschooling rhythms at home
• praying through what this might look like

Tiny movement creates clarity. Clarity rarely comes while standing still.

For The Mom Reading This

If you feel stuck, I want you to know something: You are not crazy for wanting something different. You are not selfish for wanting more presence, more freedom, more life. And you do not need full confidence before you begin. Sometimes the next right thing is simply admitting what you’ve been feeling. Maybe it’s not that you’re waiting for the right time. Maybe you’re waiting to believe that a different life is actually possible. It is. And maybe this is the moment you stop calling it someday.