It was the beginning of September 2025 when my husband returned from a failed hunting safari with three clients. The week leading up to it had been stressful — we could hardly communicate due to how remote the area was, and during the few moments I did reach him, I felt the pit creep into my stomach. Things were going wrong. Fast.
The hunt collapsed halfway through. I scrambled to arrange flights home, while holding our lives together on this side. When he finally arrived back late on a Sunday night — exhausted, deflated, and carrying the weight of failure — chaos rolled in behind him. A week later he left again for another hunt that would keep him away most of September.
And that’s when the world shook in a different way.
During this time the CEO of Turning Point USA, Charlie Kirk, was assassinated. My kids and I sat until the quiet hours of the South African morning watching his memorial service live. As I listened, something ignited in me. This man lived boldly for God — unashamed, unfiltered, and unwavering. He called men to rise, lead their homes, and stand under God’s authority so their wives could flourish in their God-given calling.
And in that moment, with tears burning behind my eyes, I realized something painful and true:
I had been living lukewarm.
One foot in the world, one foot in the Kingdom.
Drifting. Coping. Surviving.
I felt my life folding open before me — decades of striving, storms weathered, pockets of beauty — yet a hollow ache that whispered: You were created for more than this.
I wanted transformation. I wanted Kingdom alignment. I wanted to stop wasting time wandering far from the Father who had always been waiting.
But I wasn’t walking this life alone. My husband was stuck in the same lukewarm space. And so the question rose: How do I create an opening for God to lead us out of this wilderness?
The answer came sharper than expected: Sober October.
The Plan
I had been experimenting with alcohol-free stretches for the last few years. By then I had gone nearly two full months with only two or three glasses of wine. I was training hard, eating clean, and feeling the clarity and strength that comes when the body and spirit finally breathe again.
So when my husband returned home, I didn’t suggest — I declared — that October would be a fast:
- No alcohol.
- Daily time in the Word together.
- Aligning our home and business under God.
- Church every Sunday and joining a cell group.
- Stewardship and Kingdom leadership at the center.
He hesitated — mostly at the alcohol part — but finally agreed.
What followed wasn’t holy and peaceful at first. It was messy.
I was angry. Angry at him for decisions made. Angry at myself for choices tolerated. Angry at both our parents for not modeling spiritual leadership better. Angry that it took me nearly fifty years to face the truth.
And all of this while facing financial loss, legal threats from clients over the failed hunt, and an income winter ahead.
We were tired. Wounded. Scared. But we were deciding to stand.
Day One
Wednesday, 1 October 2025.
Alarm at 4:45am. Coffee. Dining room table.
Two stubborn hearts learning to bow again.
Those first mornings were raw — both of us bruised, licking wounds, trying to shift blame, then learning slowly to drop it. But by week two, something softened. We began repenting — truly repenting — for years of self-reliance, pride, and financial bondage.
We gave God our business, our marriage, our direction, and our future. We confessed that trusting our own wisdom had led us into loss and strain — and we asked Him to lead instead.
By week three, my husband was changing — deeply and visibly. For the first time in 29 years his body and spirit were sober. Clear. Awake. The spiritual ground under our home was shifting.
We still didn’t have answers for the financial mess. We still felt the weight. But now we were walking aligned, submitted, and together — finally stepping into our God-designed roles as husband and wife.
Today
It’s the 3rd of November 2025 as I write this. We still don’t know exactly how everything will unfold, but I know this:
God knows.
And He is leading.
My husband is stepping into spiritual headship with humility and conviction. Our mornings with God continue. Our business decisions now go through His hands first, not ours.
We have traded survival for surrender, and confusion for calling.
Sober October wasn’t just about alcohol.
It was about obedience.
About repentance.
About turning our feet toward the Kingdom and not looking back.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel peace.
Unfiltered. Unfinished. Redeemed.
Wild Soul Notes 