Creating Space for Possibility
The courage to leave what is for what could be
Does anyone else ever feel like a walking contradiction at times?
I like being warm, but I also like being cold.
I don’t want to be told what to do... except when I’m tired of making decisions and wish someone would just tell me what to do.
I thrive on structure and routine, yet I get bored doing the same thing over and over again and crave variety.
The more I think about it, the more I realize life is full of contradictions.
I want certainty, but I also want adventure.
I want freedom, but I appreciate boundaries.
I want to grow, but I don’t necessarily want things to change.
I want to write, but sometimes I avoid writing altogether.
And perhaps nowhere is this contradiction more apparent than in our creative lives.
As readers, we don’t want to be confused. We want to understand what’s happening. Yet we also want room to participate in the story. We want to fill in the gaps, make discoveries, and connect the dots ourselves. We don’t want to be over-explained to.
And as writers? We often feel the same tension.
There’s a quote often attributed to Dorothy Parker that perfectly captures it:
“I hate writing. I love having written.”
We procrastinate.
We avoid.
We tell ourselves we’ll start tomorrow.
And then when we finally sit down and do the work, something clicks. It’s as though we’ve come home to ourselves.
I can’t explain all of these contradictions—or the mysteries of the human heart—and thankfully, I don’t have to.
But lately I’ve been wondering if these tensions point to something deeper.
Maybe growth requires us to live in the space between what is and what could be.
When I began my training as a Spiritual Growth Coach, I had the opportunity to be mentored by a coach who shared a piece of wisdom that has stayed with me for more than a decade:
“You only know what you know. Which means you don’t know what you don’t know. There is a whole other side that we know nothing about.”
Over the years, I’ve added my own question to that idea:
Are we brave enough to leave what is for what could be?
Some circumstances force us into unfamiliar territory.
A diagnosis.
A loss.
A transition.
A disappointment.
Those are the moments when we find ourselves living in what we once said, “I can’t even imagine.”
And yet there we are.
Not imagining it.
Living it.
Some of the greatest opportunities for spiritual growth come when we discover that God is present not only in the waiting, but also in the very situations we never thought we’d be able to endure.
But there are other moments—many other moments that require a different kind of courage.
The courage to willingly leave familiar ground.
The courage to shake things up.
The courage to try something new before we’re certain it will work.
The courage to exchange comfort for possibility.
In conversations about creativity, we often talk about potential and possibility as though they’re the same thing.
I’m not so sure they are.
Potential is what already exists.
A seed has the potential to become a flower.
A writer has the potential to write a book.
A dream has the potential to become reality.
Potential is important, but potential alone changes nothing.
Potential can sit dormant for years.
Possibility begins when potential meets action.
Possibility asks:
What happens if I try?
What happens if I say yes?
What happens if I take the next step?
Potential says something could happen.
Possibility invites us to find out.
The same is true spiritually.
Potential says:
God can use me.
Possibility says:
What if I actually let Him?
Potential remains theoretical. Possibility becomes experiential.
And often the bridge between potential and possibility is courage.
The willingness to shake things up and leave what is for what could be.
The challenge, of course, is that possibility rarely reveals itself when we continue doing the exact same things we’ve always done.
Sometimes growth requires a change in perspective.
Sometimes it requires margin.
Sometimes it requires stepping away from the noise long enough to hear what God might be inviting us into next.
And sometimes it simply requires putting ourselves in environments where creativity, reflection, and possibility have room to breathe.
Because possibility needs space.
Space to think, dream, and create.
Space to hear God’s voice and imagine what could be instead of simply reacting to what is.
That’s one reason I’m so passionate about creating spaces where writers can step away from the demands of everyday life and reconnect with both their creativity and their calling.
Which brings me to the Stillness & Story Retreat that I will be leading in September. Here is the Instagram Live I did to announce the details last week!
Who?
Faith-filled women writers at any stage of the journey—from those with completed manuscripts to those with only an idea and a longing to begin.
What?
A writing retreat designed to help you slow down, reconnect with God, and return to the page with clarity, courage, and renewed purpose.
When?
September 17–20, 2026
Where?
Edwardsville, Illinois (near St. Louis, Missouri) at a beautiful space to inspire creative inspiration sneak peak here 👀
Why?
Because writing and creativity don't flourish in isolation. They flourish in connection with God, with our own stories, and with a community of fellow writers who remind us we're not alone on the journey.
How?
Through dedicated writing time, worship, reflection, encouragement, coaching, and meaningful connection with other faith-filled women writers.
Whether you join us in September or create that space in another way, my hope is the same.
That you give yourself permission to step outside of the familiar.
To explore new possibilities. To take a creative risk. To try something different.
And to discover what God might be waiting to reveal on the other side of your willingness to shake things up.
As I write this from the dental office between patients, preparing to send this newsletter, I keep thinking about those of you who might be reading this and feeling stuck.
Stuck creatively and/or spiritually. Stuck somewhere between what is and what could be.
And there’s one thought that keeps coming to mind:
Don’t give up on your creative dreams.
God hasn’t, and neither should you.
What if your potential and possibility are waiting on the other side of your willingness to shake things up?
What if the next step isn’t having all the answers, but simply being brave enough to leave what is for what could be?
So, keep writing. Keep creating. Keep showing up.
Until next time,
I definitely feel this right now! Leaving what is for what could be. I’ve felt God calling me to do something different for some time now, and I slowly started taking steps to get there, but in one way or another, it would always get postponed as I took detours. I’ve received so much clarity recently, and even though it’s a bit anxiety-inducing to leave the comforts of the known, I’ve made the decision to take that leap and step out in faith, trusting in what God is calling me to do and that He will work it all out according to His plans and timing. I just need to take the official, public first step and do the work.
This is so good! Thank you for sharing it, Stephanie!