2026 is a big year of transition. In February, I’ll turn 49, my last year in my forties. In May, Thomas, our oldest, will graduate from college and officially be “off our books.” Kate, our youngest, will graduate from high school and soon after begin college away from us. Mae, our middle, is likely switching apartments this summer with another in-town move near her campus. Mid-summer, we have another military PCS where we will relocate from Georgia to Kentucky. In August, Ryan and I celebrate 25 years of marriage.

What a fun time of life! No, seriously. This is a lot, but it is also a lot of fun to be in a position of seeing your children you raised step into God’s plans for their lives with independence and direction, to be in a position to get to continue serving the Lord through military ministry wherever he sends us, and to be in a position to observe a huge milestone in marriage you have invested into with a covenant partner for more than two decades.

All good things, but needless to say, this year has a lot of moving parts. I mean that in every way possible, from the literal to the figurative. In addition to the aforementioned life transitions, in 2025, we purchased a little getaway space in the North Carolina mountains. I am very much feeling the tension of all of these big changes in how and where I spend time making a life. I’m feeling the ache of saying a lot of goodbyes to what has always been. I’m acknowledging the grief of letting certain parts of my identity fade into the sunset.

However, I want to embrace this next phase of life with curiosity, excitement, adventure, and purpose. I won’t let myself drown in sadness or nostalgia. I won’t stay stuck looking in the rearview mirror when there’s a big, wide, open world full of opportunities and new endeavors ahead.

With all of the attention to what’s going on inside my heart and head about these transitions, there also comes some intention with the physical spaces we’ll occupy. There are many practical aspects of kids growing up, moving out, moving on to their next best thing, as well as those for Ryan and me with a PCS and now, being a two-home family.

Such a long prelude to get to my point, which is, I’m thinking deeply about all of our stuff, where we will keep it, and what makes the most sense as we enter into our Open Door, Road Show, and what I am trademarking as our Yes, And season. (I have a forthcoming post about this label!)

There are several project areas I hope to tackle this year as we embark on the Yes, And phase of life. I want to streamline, economize, and essentialize what we plan to keep and how we plan to store things. The idea being that we want to lighten our load so that we can have more margin for saying yes, without being weighed down by enormous amounts of physical stuff and emotional or mental clutter.

Here are a few areas I’m already considering that you’ll like see a post about in the coming months:

• Christmas Bins and Decor
• Legacy Planning and Important Documents
• Kids’ Toys and Keepsakes
• Large Kitchen + Entertaining Items
• Books and Other Media
• Furniture and Home Decor

Whether you are PCSing this year, launching your youngest child into the world, feeling the need to take back a little control over your spaces, or all three (!!!), I’d love for you to join me this year in essentializing.

“Essentialism is not about how to get more things done; it’s about how to get the right things done. It doesn’t mean just doing less for the sake of less either. It is about making the wisest possible investment of your time and energy in order to operate at our highest point of contribution by doing only what is essential.”
― Greg Mckeown, Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less

I don’t know about you, but in 2026 and beyond, I want to operate at the highest point of contribution: for myself, for my marriage, for my kids and family, and for my community.