Sometimes the most powerful word you can hear—the one that actually gets you moving—is no.
No explanations. No justifications. No softness around the edges.
Just a full stop. A complete sentence.
The last few days have felt like a masterclass in transition.
Parenting adjustments.
Work-life recalibration.
Ella changing schools.
A beloved daycare closing its doors.
New routines forming where familiar ones once lived.
Add to that the return from winter break—sports schedules ramping back up, desks needing to be managed with excellence, and my role expanding as I support athletics and help facilitate training as senior administrative support staff. Leadership doesn’t pause just because life is full; it asks you to rise anyway.
And then there’s the unseen labor.
Learning—daily—how to be a better mom.
A present wife.
A grounded administrative professional.
A thoughtful home manager for a family navigating growth on multiple levels.
When I slowed down long enough to really reflect, the timeline hit me hard. I’ve been away from New York for 13 years. Oji and I have known each other for 34 years and have shared 16 of those years as a couple. That kind of history forces honesty.
There are chapters that need periods—not commas.
Because our kids are growing right in front of us.
A 12-year-old standing at the doorway of teenage years.
A 9-year-old now officially labeled a preteen (still processing that one).
And our baby girl—six years old—preparing for first grade next year.
So yes, this season may feel rough.
But rough doesn’t mean broken.
And hard doesn’t mean hopeless.
I actually believe 2026 may become one of our best years yet as a family—not because everything is smooth, but because we’re facing the hard things instead of dodging them. We’re breaking big challenges into manageable projects and doing the work with intention.
There’s no reason any part of our lives—me, my husband, or our children—should remain stagnant.
Growth doesn’t ask permission.
It asks for honesty, courage, and the willingness to accept no—and keep moving anyway.
And by God’s grace, we’re built for this season.
Closing Prayer
God,
Thank You for meeting us in seasons of transition.
Thank You for the courage to face change honestly and the wisdom to know when a chapter has ended. When the answer is no, give us clarity instead of confusion, peace instead of fear, and strength to move forward without looking back.
Cover our family as we grow—individually and together.
Guide our steps as parents, partners, professionals, and caretakers of the lives You’ve entrusted to us. Help us steward our time, our energy, and our responsibilities with excellence and grace.
As doors close, remind us that You are still opening new ones.
As routines shift, anchor us in Your peace.
As we stretch, grow, and let go, teach us to trust You more deeply.
We surrender this season to You and step forward with faith, confidence, and hope—knowing You are already in what’s next.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
© 2026, Lela Fagan. All rights reserved.
