Here’s what I know: 

I’m a woman who loves Jesus. I’m 5 feet tall on a good day. I try to see the good in life and choose joy—on purpose. I love to laugh, have fun, and play games with family and friends. 

I’m Ryan’s wife—something I’m deeply grateful for, even if I don’t always express it the way I should. God gave me a good one. 

I’m a mom to two amazing adult kids. They are an absolute gift—far more than I deserve—and I thank God for them daily. They’ve been two of the biggest blessings in my life. 

For as long as I can remember, all I ever wanted was to be a wife and a mom. And by the grace of God, I’ve been able to live out both of those dreams. We homeschooled for much of their childhood, did life together, and made space for family time—even when my husband’s schedule in public service meant we had to live a little differently. We made it work, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

But now that both kids have graduated college and are out in the world doing amazing things, I find myself wondering: where do I fit now? 

That question is tangled up with another part of my story—chronic illness. For years now, I’ve walked with Ménière’s Disease, chronic pain, and migraines. I work hard not to let these conditions define me, though it’s not easy. Some days, the struggle is very real. But please know this—I don’t want pity. What I do want is to live a meaningful life despite the limits, and I’m so grateful for family and friends who love me well and make space for what I need. Still, it’s hard to accept how much this “thing” shapes our lives. 

Another part of my journey: I never finished college. I met a boy, fell in love, got married, and soon after became a mom to two sweet babies. And honestly, school just didn’t matter after that—raising those kids did. Would I change it? Not a chance. But does it sometimes leave me unsure of what’s next? Yes, maybe. 

What I do know is this: I love encouraging others. I love hearing people’s stories. I love creating—watercolor, painting, wood projects, crocheting—anything with heart and hands. Though lately, my hands have struggled too, and I haven’t been able to finish projects the way I used to. That’s been a hard letting go. 

So here I am, doing my best to walk into today—and tomorrow—with open hands. Still wondering: Who am I now? Where can I serve well? How can I be an encouragement? How can I contribute? 

I don’t have all the answers yet. But I’m still here, still showing up, still believing that there’s purpose in the becoming.

With Love,

Laura