That Time I Lost All My Faith...
- Apr 11
- 7 min read
Let me tell you about the time I felt absolutely abandoned by spirit… The darkest night of my soul—these months were some of the most stressful and barren of my life. They made me question my connection to Spirit and my own ability and I felt like absolutely giving up…
In 2021, my husband and I finished construction on a beautiful new-build just outside Raleigh, NC. It was beyond our wildest dreams that we could own such a stunning home. We both came from so little and only 6 years prior to that we had moved into a 600 square foot 1-bedroom apartment with our newborn and 3 pets. And here we were.
The home felt homey enough and its walls were filled with happy memories while we were there. Moving into the home had been our seventh move in eight years. We were exhausted and we thought maybe we had found a place we would settle for a few years. Winds of change came quickly and Zack’s position allowed him to work remotely for the first time in his career and he jumped at the chance. With his new position, we realized we could—someday—move again. If we wanted.
But we didn’t.
Yet.
I remember the day it hit me that we should move. I remember the moment. It was 2022, only 11 months after we’d finished construction and closed on our home. It also happened to be our 8th wedding anniversary. We were driving home with our kids and I saw news that an elementary school in Uvalde, TX had a mass shooting. Nineteen children and two adults were dead. Uvalde is 1,472 miles from where we lived and my still stomach twisted. Before I could even think it all the way through I told Zack I was ready to move. I couldn’t keep living below the mason-dixon.
We are Michiganders by birth and when we left to embark on our Great Unknown we were only 24. In that time, we’d gotten married, had babies, bought and sold a house and built another. Our time in the South had impacted us greatly, for better and for worse at times.
But suddenly, and with an overwhelming urgency, I was ready to get North again. Spirit showed me a home in the woods, very similar to the Twilight house, actually. It had giant windows and a creek. Towering trees everywhere. I told Zack I saw us living a slower life. A garden that didn’t wilt in the southern sun and scorch in the merciless heat.
It didn’t take long to convince him to at least ask his boss if a move was at least possible. He agreed it was a first step, but he wasn’t sure if she’d go for it.
But she did.
Then we talked to our previous realtor and realized we stood to make close to six-figures on the sale of our home if we moved soon. Maybe more, if the market stayed as wildly competitive as it had.
Our brand new home was on the market two weeks later. We were so confident we would have an offer by the end of the weekend that we even put an offer on a home out in Oregon. It was adorable. A bit of a fixer upper though and it was nearly at the top of our budget already. Not to mention the move out there would drain most of the profit from the sale of our home.
The day after we listed, we rented an RV and got out of town for the weekend to test what it would be like to drive one cross country—back when that was what our plan still was. We knew our house was beautiful and that it would go quickly. Especially as the Universe had already paved the way to the sale so effortlessly.
We were so confident. It makes me sick to think of it now. We’d heard the stories of mind blowing cash offers from others in the Raleigh area, those well above asking price and with a hefty “due-diligence fee”, we felt like we were hours away from being much wealthier and well on our way to live out our dreams in the pacific northwest. I could see how happy we would be there. It was all happening.
But the federal interest rates spiked the day we left in the RV to test drive our dreams and not only did we not get an offer on our home that entire weekend—we didn’t even get a viewing. Our home sat empty whilst I had foreseen being so completely put out by the number of times we’d need to be in and out that it best we just vacate. But no.
No one came. And for the next 5 merciless weeks, we barely showed our house at all. The times we did were hellacious. We’d sold our van to get ready for this grand adventure and now we were a family of 4 in a sedan with 3 dogs and 2 cats who needed to be out of the house for showings. Zack would take the dogs for a walk and they would suffer through the Raleigh summer heat while we waited for people to leave— sometimes they’d simply no-show the appointment entirely.
I couldn’t make sense of it. I had seen our future. I had felt our family in it.
Spirit had led me to the proverbial promised land, allowed me to suffer for it, and then revoked the reward. I felt akin to Moses himself.
There were moments during that Summer of Patience, where I would become so overwhelmed with anxiety that I eventually sought medication for my panic attacks. I would ask Zack again and again if he thought we were making the right decision. A part of me worried I had led us astray with promises of a better life and Spirit leading the way. Maybe the lesson hadn’t been to go. Maybe I’d gotten it all wrong.
In moments of unsureness, I would ask Zack if maybe we ought to rethink the move and go back to Michigan instead. But I was so overwhelmed by panic that we both assumed I was just afraid of such a major life decision. It was just the fear talking. That’s what we told ourselves.
It was coming up on 4th of July weekend, the worst weekend to sell a house. We were weeks away from pulling it from the market and trying it again next Spring. I felt heartbroken and burned out.
While driving the kids home, I called Zack on speaker and told him, “Before we give up, I just need us to sit down tonight and talk about Michigan.”
He sounded incredulous that I was still thinking about it but agreed. That night, we’d talk.
After the kids were tucked away in bed, we walked silently to the back yard. The air felt electric. Sparked with the unknown. I noticed idly that our automatic solar lights weren’t on. It was pretty late; all the neighbors had already ticked on for the night.
We sat down and I clasped my hands, bracing myself with a heavy breath. “So… about Michigan—”
As soon as I said it, the solar lights all flashed on. I remember getting covered in goosebumps as we both stared at them, gobsmacked. I went on, describing what our life could be like if we moved back home. I felt a new message come through, one urging me that we would regret being so far from family if we left now. There would always be a choice to go later, but I felt sure that we were going to want to be close for what was going to come. And I was right. I am.
Zack’s entire energy shifted as we talked and as we walked inside, the decision was made.
We were going to move to Michigan.
And after 6 brutal weeks on the housing market, that very night our realtor called with two offers. We accepted right away and the next day we found the house of our dreams, sitting on 2-acres just outside of Grand Rapids. The moment I stopped fighting fate, everything fell into place and let me tell you, what the Universe had in store for me was so much better than I imagined for myself. The house I saw still existed and it wasn’t out in Oregon. The giant windows and the towering trees, the creek and the kids and the garden—it was all right here for me.
Returning to Michigan was divine intervention and the longer I resisted the Fate Field, the more I slipped into emotional exhaustion and spiritual dissonance. I lost my faith. I lost my joy.
What I didn’t know at the time, but have since come to understand with hyperclarity, is that what I was experiencing was not a spiritual dry-spell. It wasn’t a fear driven mindset clouding my manifestation. It wasn’t my guides abandoning me.
Not everything is meant to be healed.
Not everything is meant to be manifested.
I was experiencing a clashing of spiritual landscapes. I was using the wrong tool—the wrong response—for the field I was operating in. This insight gave way to the methodology of Fieldwork and the 3 overlapping fields that comprise our perception of reality.
The Fixed Field, made of what cannot be changed—at least not easily or quickly.
The Fluid Field, made of what can be shifted through aligned belief, behavior, action, and intention.
The Fated Field, which holds the sacred soul lessons we’re here to live through, not “fix.”
The hard part of all this is that fields aren't labeled and all the tools are all jumbled together. And when working with the wrong tool in the wrong terrain you often create more harm than good.
The good part of all this is that Fieldwork exists.
Fieldwork gives you the clarity, language, and resources to navigate the energetic fields with confidence. When you understand what is meant to be healed, what is meant to be held, and what can absolutely be shifted, everything moves smoother. You’ll be living in your Fluid Field, pulled by the current of your Fated. The Fixed simply adds structure and context to your reality.
This June, I’ll be guiding a small beta group through the very first 6-week journey of Fieldwork.
It’s not coaching. It’s not manifestation hacks. It’s not spiritual bypassing. It’s a clear, grounded, sacred way to finally understand:
What’s truly yours to heal
What’s ancestral or structural
What’s asking to be lived through with grace
If you’ve ever felt like you were doing “everything right” and still not getting anywhere…Fieldwork is for you.
Join my email list to get the first details on dates and pricing for this beta offer coming soon.
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