A Shift on the Horizon
Finding meaning in travel, family moments, and the space between what is and what’s next
After a weekend of allergies and illness, I headed out on a work trip to Minnesota for training. On the surface, it was just another flight, another hotel, another few days of learning. But this one felt different.
For the first time, I felt the ache of missing Jasper in a way I hadn’t before. That absence stirred something in me—an awareness that the months ahead may hold a shift I can’t quite name yet. It’s not clear where the path is leading, but I can sense it’s time to pay closer attention.
The work was productive, though travel slowed my usual rhythm. Still, I’m grateful for these opportunities and the doors they open. At the same time, there’s a pull—a reminder that growth doesn’t just happen in the office, but also in the choices we make about where we invest our energy.
Back home, Jasper greeted me with a new daycare cough. Thankfully, it’s been mild. And in true Jasper fashion, he’s moving forward regardless—promoted to his next-level classroom starting in October. “Toddler 2” is just around the corner, another sign that change comes whether we’re ready or not.
Our weekend trip to Columbus reminded me of that same lesson. We went for Jasper’s India visa, and while the day threw us a few unexpected turns—like a notary dash and another round of disappointment at a favorite Indian restaurant—the detours gave us new moments. Ikea’s Swedish Meatballs filled the gap, and sometimes it’s in the simple things that we find joy.
We closed out the week at the Solon temple. After missing service the week before, being back brought me perspective. Routines may shift, locations may change, but what matters is showing up—for faith, for family, for the people who anchor us.
This week was a reminder that life isn’t always about knowing what’s next—it’s about being present in the in-between, trusting that the shift ahead is leading us somewhere worth going.
Maybe you’re feeling that same tug right now—the sense that change is near, even if the details aren’t clear. My encouragement: lean into it. Sometimes the unknown is the beginning of the best chapters.