My Big Wild Goal

One beach chair. One notebook. One question that changed everything. I thought my goal was to publish a book, but the bigger transformation was happening in me.

Last Thanksgiving, I escaped for a few hours.

Not because I needed a break from my family, but because I needed some space to think.

My amazing husband, Jim, has always been incredibly supportive of my dreams, even the ones that begin as half-formed ideas scribbled in my notebook (or changing careers). While we were at the beach house, he took over kid duty and encouraged me to spend some intentional time alone to think, reflect, and soul search about my goals for 2026.

So I grabbed my notebook and a beach chair and headed down to the sand.

One of the things I love most about Crystal Beach that time of year is how empty it feels. There are no crowds, no noise, and no distractions. It was just me, my notebook, my toes in the sand, and the sound of the waves rolling in.

I wasn’t doing anything unusual.

I was working on my goals for the upcoming year.

I’ve always been an early goal setter. While most people wait until January, I like to start thinking through the next year well before it arrives. I want to hit January 1st with clarity and momentum rather than spending the first few weeks figuring out what I want the year to look like.

So I started making my lists.

Business goals.

Financial goals.

Family goals.

Health goals.

The usual.

The goals themselves weren’t the problem. They were good goals and reflected things that genuinely matter to me. As I looked over the list, though, I realized nearly every goal was connected to taking care of someone else, growing a business, supporting my family, or meeting a responsibility. Those are all worthwhile pursuits, but I couldn’t remember the last time I had intentionally set a goal that existed simply because it excited me.

That realization sat heavily with me as I listened to the waves.

Somewhere along the way, I had become very good at setting goals that served everyone around me. But when was the last time I had given myself permission to pursue something that felt wildly ambitious, deeply personal, and completely unnecessary?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized there was one idea that kept resurfacing.

A children’s book.

It wasn’t some brilliant new revelation I had while sitting on the beach. Quite the opposite, actually. It was a dream I had carried around for years.

Every now and then I would pull it off the shelf in my mind, think about it for a while, and then put it right back where I found it.

I was always too busy.

The timing wasn’t right.

I had other priorities.

Or at least that’s what I told myself.

But the idea never completely disappeared.

Part of it came from conversations with my own children. Like many parents, I’ve had moments where my kids asked big questions about Heaven, loss, and what happens after we die. Those conversations stayed with me.

I have also found myself thinking about grief differently over the years. Not just how painful it can be, but how powerful it can be when it is transformed into something that brings comfort, hope, or healing to someone else.

Somewhere along the way, those thoughts began to take shape as a story.

A story about Heaven.

A story about wonder.

A story that might help children process some of life’s biggest questions through imagination, faith, and hope.

As I sat there with my notebook in the sand, I finally stopped asking whether it was practical and started asking a different question:

If not now, when?

So I wrote it down.

One Big Wild Goal for 2026: Write and self-publish a children’s book

At the time, it felt almost ridiculous. I knew very little about publishing and had no experience with illustrations, book launches, ISBN numbers, printing, or marketing. If I’m honest, I had no idea how to bring a children’s book into the world. I just knew the idea wouldn’t leave me alone.

So I made a commitment to myself.

And then something unexpected happened.

The moment I committed to the goal, it started changing me.

The book became more than a book.

It challenged me to learn new things, ask for help, embrace being a beginner again, and take action before I felt fully prepared. It pushed me outside of my comfort zone in ways I never anticipated. It also sent me back to my Bible, digging into what Scripture actually says as a foundation for the story I wanted to tell.

That’s when I started to realize that maybe the point of a Big Wild Goal isn’t simply achieving it.

Maybe the point is who you become while pursuing it.

Today, I’m deep in the process of bringing Jonner and the Stuffed Animal Mansion into the world.

The dream that once existed only in my imagination now has pages, artwork, deadlines, and an October 2026 launch date.

The funny thing is that when I wrote this goal down, I thought the goal was to publish a book. Looking back, I think the real goal was becoming the kind of person who isn’t afraid to say a dream out loud, put herself out there, and do whatever it takes to make it happen, even when there’s no guarantee of success and every step requires a little vulnerability and a lot of faith.

A few weeks after that afternoon on the beach, Christmas arrived.

Among the gifts under the tree was something completely unexpected: hot pink LLC paperwork for Big Wild Goal, LLC.

My husband had quietly taken steps to turn my dream into something real, establishing Big Wild Goal, LLC as a woman-owned business and giving this little idea in my notebook a foundation to grow from.

Not because there was a manuscript.

Not because I had a launch date.

Not because I had proven any of this was going to work.

But because he believed in it.

Looking back, I realize that piece of paper represented something much bigger than a business entity. It represented belief. Before there was artwork, a website, or a publishing plan, there was someone willing to say, “You’ve got a Big Wild Goal. I am confident that you will reach it.”

What a gift.

I’m still figuring out how to share and spread the idea of a Big Wild Goal in a way that inspires others to pursue one of their own. And yes, I’ve even caught myself wondering: is it too soon to start thinking about my 2027 Big Wild Goal? Maybe it’s something truly Wild, like starting my own recruiting company or taking on a challenge that pushes me far beyond what feels comfortable today.

Because I know I’m not the only person carrying around a dream they’ve quietly talked themselves out of pursuing.

Maybe yours is writing a book.

Maybe it’s starting a business.

Maybe it’s changing careers.

Maybe it’s learning to paint, running a marathon, traveling somewhere you’ve always wanted to go, overcoming a fear that’s been holding you back, or doing something wildly unexpected for someone like you. Maybe it’s finally giving yourself permission to try something that has absolutely no guarantee of success.

I don’t know exactly where this journey will lead.

What I do know is that one quiet afternoon on an empty beach changed something in me.

For the first time in a long time, I gave myself permission to pursue a goal that wasn’t rooted in obligation. It was rooted in curiosity, creativity, and possibility.

And that has made all the difference.

Looking back, it’s funny how much can change because of one quiet afternoon.

I have no idea what future Big Wild Goal may be waiting for me, but I’m grateful I finally had the courage to start this one.

And something tells me I’m not the only person carrying around a dream that’s waiting to be written down.