rebecca's insite

When you spend a long time in a room that has grown too small for you, your mind gets used to the boundaries. You adapt to the ceilings and walls. You learn how to move within those structures. Although you prayed for an exit, your [limited] imagination led you to stepping through the closed door and walking into a larger or even an expansive room or hallway.

Last month, I wrote about the painful blessing of closed doors—realizing that I was being rescued from spaces I had already outgrown. But when I turned around from those doors, I didn’t find a new room waiting for me. I found the outdoors.

There are no walls or a ceiling restricting me anymore. There is only an entire, untraveled world stretching out in front of me. And to be completely honest… it’s kinda terrifying!

When I asked for something BIG AND BOLD last year, I know I hadn’t quite realized how traumatic – the highs and lows – the journey was going to be. And that is okay. I am okay. I am through it and it has brought me here, today. But now that the opportunity for expansion is actually here, I’m realizing it requires a level of courage and creativity I haven’t had to use in a very long time (if ever).

It is easy to dream about freedom when you are trapped. I am realizing just how much immense bravery it takes to actually step into that freedom when you don’t know where the path leads—especially when you are navigating limited resources and sudden career shifts.

Stepping into this expansive world – at an age past what I nor society considers my ‘prime’ – requires a radical rewrite of my life’s script. The definitions I used to rely on no longer apply. The old metrics of security, success, and status have crumbled, leaving me to redefine what it actually means to THRIVE. I am no longer playing by a handbook written for a younger version of myself, nor am I waiting for someone else to grant me permission to begin again. Rebuilding with different resources and decades of lived experience means reclaiming my autonomy and trusting my own compass:

• It takes creativity to build a rich, meaningful life when you can no longer just spend your way through every transition.
• It takes courage to resist falling back into old, comfortable patterns—turning away from quick fixes or familiar safety nets that promise short-term comfort at the cost of your future peace.
• It takes discipline to stay outdoors when your instinct is to run back inside to a smaller, familiar cage just because it feels safe.

While the phrase “the sky’s the limit” is often presented as a boundless invitation, it can sometimes feel overwhelming, even diminishing, when you’re standing in the vast unknown. Yet, I’ve come to realize that the “limit” isn’t about lack; it’s about the horizon defined by your current means and resources. This is exactly where creativity, courage, and discipline must take root. 

As the canvas of my life suddenly opens up, I must admit that I am often tempted to shrink myself to match the smallness of my current circumstances or the haze of my immediate uncertainties. But instead of retreating, I choose not to shrink. I am learning to inhabit this vast space, not as a spectator, but as an essential part of the landscape itself.

Let me repeat that: I choose not to shrink. I choose to be part of the landscape.

I am also trying to remember that this current path isn’t necessarily the destination—it is just the path. It is the terrain where I am rediscovering who I am when all the old titles, familiar cushions, and external security systems are stripped away. It is the place where I am reminded that I am the creator of my inner peace (gifted to me by God, Spirit), regardless of what my circumstances look like on paper or to others.

Something [big] is coming. I know this in my bones. But I am determined not to spend this season holding my breath until the “next big thing” arrives.

I am going to enjoy the journey along this untraveled path. I am going to celebrate the small, creative ways I navigate each day. I am going to honor the courage it takes to stand in the open air—unconfined, learning, and radically free.

If you are standing in an open expanse right now—feeling the fear of the unknown and the weight of a changing season—remember this: You do not need a fortress to be secure. You just need the courage to keep walking.