The Power of The Pivot: Permission to Adjust

A few months ago, I had a plan. Peekaboo Faith was going to become a weekly blog. Every week, I would write a reflection, offer journal prompts, and create a regular opportunity for us to pause and pay attention to the ways faith often reveals itself in our everyday lives.

Sometimes the master plan changes.

I genuinely intended to do it. And then life happened.

There have been days when the words flowed easily and days when simply keeping up with life required most of my energy. There has been deep grief. I have had decisions to make, responsibilities to carry, unexpected turns, and moments that demanded my attention in ways I could not have anticipated when I first made that plan.

The truth is that I spent more time feeling disappointed in myself than I care to admit.

You know that feeling when you create a beautiful vision for yourself and then life lifes and you realize your timeline is unrealistic? That has been me.

But lately, I have been thinking about the difference between quitting and pivoting. Quitting says, "This isn't important anymore." Pivoting says, "This still matters, but the approach needs to change."

This month at Shabach, our theme is practicing setting and honoring our boundaries. Most of us think about boundaries in terms of other people, but I have been realizing that sometimes our boundaries need to exist between us and our own expectations.

Sometimes we continue trying to meet a standard that no longer fits the season we're living in. Sometimes we hold ourselves accountable to a version of life that existed before circumstances changed. And sometimes the most compassionate thing we can do is give ourselves permission to adjust.

The weekly blog was a wonderful idea. It simply wasn't sustainable for me during this season. That doesn't mean I failed. It means I learned how to pivot and offer myself grace.

Going forward, my intention is to write at least once each month and to provide the month's journal prompts together. Rather than asking myself to create something every week, I can create something that feels spacious, intentional, and sustainable.

I found freedom in admitting that what worked in one season may not work in another. I set a boundary that recognizes that, right now in my season of grief, I have limited capacity, and I honor the wisdom of that recognition.

As entrepreneurs, caregivers, parents, leaders, and human beings, many of us struggle with the idea that changing our plans somehow means we lacked commitment. But some of the healthiest decisions we make come from paying attention to what life is asking of us right now rather than what we imagined life would be six months ago.

A pivot is not giving up. A pivot is choosing to continue, just differently.

So for the remaining days in this month, you might consider these questions, which I've been grappling with myself, as journal prompts:

• Where in your life are you being asked to pivot?

• What expectation needs to be adjusted?

• What commitment needs to be reimagined?

• What boundary needs to be honored?

• And what might become possible if you stopped judging yourself for changing course?

Sometimes faith peeks through not when everything goes according to plan, but when we trust ourselves enough to make a new one.