Confession time: I don’t like starting small. I jump straight into the deep end—sometimes at the cost of missing the joy in the process. It took a quilt, a sledding hill, and a reminder that healing isn’t linear; to realize the lesson I want to share with you today.

Two days before my first quilting class, I didn’t even know how to turn on my sewing machine. Thankfully, my amazing mother-in-law, who has sewn more than 100 quilts, patiently walked me through threading the bobbin and sewing a “straight-ish” line. Over the next few months, I powered through, finished the quilt, and was proud of the result. But I’ll admit: I didn’t enjoy the process. I was too focused on the finish line, juggling book edits and other projects, just wanting to get it done.

Two years later, my sewing machine sat unused—until a friend invited me to a sewing class. This time, the experience was different. We slowed down. We learned the parts of the machine, what each dial does, and practiced on a small scissor holder project. And to my surprise, I said out loud: “This is fun.”

It wasn’t the quilt that made the difference. It was the process.

Healing Is the Same Way

So often in our healing journeys, we just want to get to the finish line. We want the therapies done, the doctor’s appointments completed, the challenges fixed. But healing is messy. Sometimes you move forward, sometimes backwards. Sometimes you’re reteaching a skill for what feels like the hundredth time and then suddenly the sky parts as our loved one successfully learns a new skill. If we rush, we risk missing the joy in the moments that matter.

Recently I was talking with a friend about the importance of taking time to play and enjoy your kids. I reminisced about when our kids were small, there was one particular occasion where we visited my parents. We had promised the kids that we would get their favorite rootbeer and go sledding after visiting their grandparents. And for us—sledding meant that the WHOLE family bundled up and raced up and down the hills. My husband and I were the ONLY adults on the hills playing and enjoying and having fun with their kids. We noticed that some kids came alone, while others had parents that were sitting in the car, reading or on their phones. I smile, even now, when I remember this precious memory of sledding with our kids.

The Hard Truth About the Finish Line

In closing, my bottom line is this—I’m a triple Type A personality that is always surging forward, wanting to learn quickly and get to the point that I can do “the thing”—make a quilt (lol) or create an amazing PowerPoint. And recently I learned that it was a lot more fun to start at the beginning, learn the parts of my machine and then go from there.

It helped of course to have a wonderful teacher, so here’s my take: find the teachers, the mentors, the healers that will walk with you, that will help explain what you need to know on your healing journey, and pace yourself. As I’ve often told others, (and myself) healing is a marathon, not a race. You’ll get there!

My question for you is this: How do you want to get there? Do you want to be ragged, spent and feel exhausted, hating every step of the way? Or do you want to slow down, enjoy your child, your partner and other family members?

In the end it’s up to you—and one thing I’ve asked myself when it came to healing—what difference does a couple months make if I’m spending it connecting, playing and enjoying time with my family?

My Challenge for You

Today, as I sat on my deck sipping from my favorite “Warrior Mom” mug—I asked myself: What am I doing to make sure I’m enjoying the journey?

Now I’ll ask you the same:

What are you doing to make sure you’re not just surviving the healing process, but truly living it?

Because the way you walk this journey will determine whether you arrive at the end with regret—or with love, laughter, and relationships stronger than ever.