Shannon's Corner

  For many of us, saying  no  doesn’t feel simple. It feels risky. Vulnerable. Uncomfortable. Maybe even unsafe. We worry: Will they be disappointed? Will I lose connection? Will I look selfish or unhelpful? Will this cost me an opportunity?   And underneath those fears is something deeply human: we all want to belong — without abandoning ourselves to do it. Learning how to say no is not about becoming rigid or distant. It’s about honoring your voice, power, and relationships — all at the same time. It’s about choosing  truth over approval  — while staying kind.   Here’s how to begin.   Step 1: Notice the Pause Before the Yes Most of us say yes automatically. The request comes in and our mouth moves faster than our internal check-in. Practice creating a  pause  — even a sentence like: “Let me think about that and get back to you.” “I need to look at my schedule first.” “I want to be thoughtful and/or pray before I commit.” ...

  For much of my life, saying no felt impossible. I wanted to be helpful. I wanted to be dependable. I wanted people to know they could count on me when they were in need. Somewhere along the way, being available became tied to being worthy. So, I said yes—even when my body was tired, my schedule was full, and my inner reserves were running dry.   It wasn’t until burnout forced me to stop that I began to understand how much not saying no was costing me. Burnout interrupted my life long enough for me to see a pattern I had never paused to question: I was saying yes automatically, often before checking in with myself. I was responding to others’ needs while staying disconnected from my own.   During my recovery from burnout, I began learning how to say no. Slowly. Imperfectly. Often with a shaky voice and a racing heart. At first, no felt harsh. Final. Like a door slamming shut.   Over time, I discovered something surprising: No can be spacious. No can be honest. No ca...

  SHANNON’S CORNER Connect. Nurture. Grow. Merry Christmas!  Advent invites us to slow down and sit with the holy mystery of what is still unfolding.  Much of the Christmas story was not understood in the moment.  It only became clear after it had happened—through the gift of hindsight.  Hindsight is “understanding a situation or event only after it has happened or developed.”  During Advent, we are reminded that God often works in ways we cannot yet see or fully understand.  How often do we find ourselves in similar places, asking God our  why ,  what , and  how  questions? Why is this happening? What is unfolding? How did we arrive here?   Advent teaches us to wait with these questions, trusting God even when the answers are not yet revealed—when we are living in the dark, watching for light.   Debriefing is one way we intentionally look back in order to notice God’s quiet faithfulness. ...

  So many of us live in reaction mode. Requests come in. Expectations rise. And before we even notice, we’ve responded—without breathing, without checking in. When that happens, our   voice – being seen and heard – gets quieter and loss . Our   power – choice, options, and influence – shrinks . Our   relationships – meant to be mutual and connected – quietly becomes driven by obligation instead of presence . Margin creates the pause. And in that pause, your personhood is restored. The pause is where you get to ask: ·        What needs to be seen and heard in me right now? ·        What choice do I actually have here? ·        What options are available to me if I don’t rush? ·        How will this decision affect my ability to stay present and connected in my relationships? Taking time to decide isn’t avoidance selfish or slow. It’s an act of agency...

  The Christmas season can be beautiful… and it can be a lot. We often think the answer is to push harder, organize more, or power through.   But the truth? Margin begins with noticing. Not hustling.   If you’re craving a little more breathing room in this season, here are the first steps I guide clients through: ✨  1. Notice what’s draining you. Where do you feel rushed, tense, or stretched thin during the holidays? Pay attention without judgment. ✨  2. Identify just ONE crowded area. Is it your calendar? Your emotional capacity? Your commitments or expectations? Start tiny. ✨  3. Honor your current capacity. This season holds its own weight. Your limits aren’t a failure—they’re wisdom. ✨  4. Add one gentle boundary. Maybe it’s a slower evening, a buffer between events, or giving yourself permission to respond later. ✨  5. Release one holiday “should.” Let go of something that doesn’t belong to you this year. Margin always requires release. ✨...

  For most of my life, I wore availability like a badge of honor. If someone needed something, I said yes. If someone had a crisis, I rearranged everything. If a request came in last-minute, I made it work—even if it meant sacrificing rest, rushing through my own responsibilities, or pushing past what my body and heart had capacity for. On the outside, it looked like kindness. On the inside, it felt like depletion disguised as service. As a lifelong people-pleaser, setting boundaries didn’t feel natural—it felt selfish. Irresponsible. Even unkind. And the idea of scheduling margin? That was almost laughable. Why would I intentionally leave empty space in my calendar? How often do you feel the angst of constantly rushing, being behind, overcommitted, disconnected, or living out of alignment? When margin is missing, life doesn’t just feel busy—it feels  tight . The body tightens, the mind races, and the heart carries a low-grade ache that we often ignore because it’s become norm...