The week I turned 50, my parents invited me on the trip of a lifetime—a cruise through the Hawaiian islands. But instead of feeling excitement, I felt like my life was unraveling.

My marriage was crumbling. I was exhausted, terrified of change. I had just returned from an international trip where I had ended an 18-year partnership with people I thought loved me and the nonprofit I had poured my heart into. I felt utterly betrayed, lost, and unsure of what was next.

I should have been soaking in the beauty of Hawaii, but all I could do was watch my life fall apart.

Then, on my first morning in Honolulu, still on East Coast time, I took a walk on the beach before sunrise. My mind was racing, my heart was heavy. And then a song played through my headphones:

🎵 I've never been good at change. If I'm honest, it's always scared me...

It was Into Faith I Go by Pat Barrett.

🎵 Fear is such a sad way to live a life… So, face to the wind, I’m jumping out, I’m walking in…

Something inside me shifted. Hope? Faith? I wasn’t sure, but for the first time in a long time, I felt a spark—like maybe, just maybe, something different was possible.

I snapped a photo of the sun rising over the waves and made a quiet decision:

☀️ Life could still be good—even when it was hard.
💙 I could get healthy and find my joy again.

I had no idea how, but I knew I had to try.

When I Returned Home, the Hard Work Began

I did the hard work.

🔹 Counseling.
🔹 Loss.
🔹 Unlearning unhealthy patterns.
🔹 More counseling.
🔹 Forgiving myself and others.
🔹 Healing—physically, spiritually, emotionally.

And slowly, step by step, I built a life I love waking up to. Not perfect. But whole.

But let me be honest—fear almost kept me stuck.

That 50-year-old Lisa was terrified that my decisions would hurt my kids. I had spent years putting their needs ahead of mine, and the thought of shaking up their world felt unbearable. Of course, it was hard for them—but now, I see three strong, healed young adults who learned that change isn’t the enemy—it’s part of life.

I was also afraid that ending our partnership in Guatemala would mean the nonprofit I had worked so hard to build would dissolve. All of our work had been connected to that partnership, and when it fell apart, I wondered if everything we had built would, too. But it didn’t. We found new partners, new ways to serve, and today, the organization is healthier and stronger than ever—still impacting people.

I had convinced myself that choosing healing would come at the expense of the people I loved.

But the truth? When we become whole, the people around us benefit, too.

But the Story Didn’t End There…

Six years later, completely unexpectedly, I had the chance to return to Honolulu. A last-minute trip, not even planned. But it was exactly what I needed.

When I woke up that first morning, I was already struck by how much had changed. I was living proof that what I had once only dared to hope for had actually come true.

But I had no idea what was coming next.

The night before we left Honolulu, Chris and I went to dinner and struck up a conversation with some people who suggested we walk to a nearby hotel to watch the sunset. It was a long walk, the crowds were thick, and honestly, we almost didn’t go. But we decided to do it.

As soon as I walked onto the property, I recognized it—it was the very same hotel where I had stayed with my parents six years before.

Chris and I got ice cream, and as we started to head back toward our hotel, he suggested we take a different path.

We ended up in the exact spot where I had stood six years ago. The same place where I had taken that photo and whispered a quiet, shaky "maybe" to the idea that life could be good again.

And then, as I stood there, someone nearby called out:

"Look at the rainbow!"

I turned to the water, and right there—right in that same spot—a double rainbow arched over the ocean.

Tears filled my eyes.

Because I knew.

I knew that 50-year-old Lisa had no idea what was waiting for her on the other side of that season. But she had dared to believe.

And now, standing in the exact same place, six years later, I got to see the full-circle moment in front of me.

A reminder. A promise.

I had no idea how life would change. But I dared to believe it could.

And now, here I am.

What About You?

Maybe your story looks different. But midlife is often a season where we stop and ask:

👉 Do I want to keep living the way I have been?
👉 Or do I dare to believe that life could be different?

I didn’t know where to start, so I fumbled my way through the process of healing and rebuilding a life I love.

That’s exactly why I created Midlife With Purpose—because this is the process and community I wish I had six years ago.

If you’re feeling lost, wondering what’s next, you don’t have to figure it out alone. Start here:

🎯 Take the Midlife Roadmap Quiz—a simple, 7-question quiz to help you figure out where to begin.
📍 Start your next chapter today.