If you would have told me a few years ago that I would one day board a plane alone and travel out of the country to Costa Rica, I probably would have laughed through my fear.
Because the truth is… I used to have really bad plane anxiety.
The kind that makes your stomach turn before takeoff. The kind that makes every bump in the air feel bigger than it is. The kind that makes you wonder if it would be easier to just stay home where everything feels safe, familiar, and predictable.
But lately, I felt something stirring in my spirit.
I felt the Lord calling me to go on this trip.
Not because it made sense.
Not because it felt easy.
Not because it was comfortable.
Actually, it felt like the complete opposite.
Traveling alone.
Leaving the country for the first time.
Walking into a retreat where I knew no one.
Being the youngest person there.
Stepping away from everything familiar.
Letting God stretch me in ways I didn’t ask for.
And I’m learning that when God calls you, it often won’t feel convenient.
It will feel like faith.
So when the opportunity came to attend a SoulFit retreat in Costa Rica with Diana and Micah ( the same incredible people my mom had connected with through her SoulFit TV), I knew I needed to say yes.
Even though it scared me.
Even though fear….and the internet told me no.
Even though I had no clue what I was walking into.
I said yes anyway.
The Airport Moment That Changed Everything
My travel day started at 3:30 a.m.
Dark. Quiet. Exhausting.
The kind of early where your body doesn’t know if you’re waking up or still dreaming.
I got dropped off at the airport, checked my bag, and started heading toward security when I noticed a young guy standing with his whole family.
They were crying.
All of them.
He had on a suit and a name tag, and I later found out he was only 18 years old and leaving on a two-year mission trip to Argentina.
I kept seeing him through the airport process, and by the time we were near security, he was standing right behind me.
He was trying to be brave.
Trying to smile.
Trying to hold it together.
But you could feel the heartbreak of leaving everyone he loved.
So I started talking to him.
I asked how old he was.
I told him I was 19.
I told him I was solo traveling too.
I think part of me just wanted him to know he wasn’t alone.
We talked for a minute and then moved on.
But after that, I felt something strong in my spirit.
Go pray for him.
Immediately, fear got loud.
That’s awkward.
That’s embarrassing.
You won’t know what to say.
What if he thinks you’re weird?
I kept brushing it off.
But I couldn’t shake it.
Go pray for him.
So I started bargaining with God.
“If he walks by me again…”
“If he catches up…”
“If he comes near me…”
Then I stepped onto the moving walkway, and there he was a few people behind me.
I knew.
This was my moment to obey.
Heart pounding, anxiety screaming, I turned around and said:
“Hey… this is random, but I just felt like I was supposed to pray for you. Can I pray for you?”
His face lit up.
“Yeah,” he said.
So right there in the middle of Kansas City International Airport, I put my hand on his shoulder and prayed.
My words weren’t polished.
I stumbled.
I laughed nervously.
I probably sounded a mess.
But obedience doesn’t require perfection.
It requires surrender.
When I finished, I told him he was going to do great things, that growing up is hard but he was going to nail it, and that God would guide him.
Then I walked away realizing something powerful:
Fear is a liar.
If I had listened to fear, I wouldn’t have prayed.
If I had listened to fear, I wouldn’t have gotten on the plane.
If I had listened to fear, I wouldn’t have made it to Costa Rica at all.
I Arrived Alone… But Not Lonely
By the time I finally landed around 3 p.m., I felt like I had lived an entire week in one day.
This is the customs line, and I still had a 4-hour shuttle to the resort
But the second I stepped out and felt the warm air, something shifted in me.
I made it.
Not just physically.
Emotionally.
Mentally.
Spiritually.
That night we had dinner, and I sat surrounded by people I had never met before.
I was the youngest person there by far.
Everyone else seemed older, wiser, stronger, more established.
And if I’m honest, part of me wondered if I belonged.
But another part of me knew:
God doesn’t invite you somewhere by accident.
Learning to Be Present
One of the most healing parts of the retreat was how little I was on my phone.
What you saw on social media was truly the only time I was on it — taking a picture, sharing a quick moment, or documenting something beautiful.
The rest of the time?
I was present.
No scrolling.
No comparison.
No noise.
Just real people.
Real conversations.
Real growth.
Real encounters with God.
I didn’t realize how badly my soul needed that.
Sharing What Hurt
The first full day, we were asked to share our trauma stories.
I’ll be honest — vulnerability is hard for me.
Talking about emotions doesn’t come naturally. I’d much rather stay busy and pretend I’m fine.
But healing doesn’t happen where we hide.
So I shared.
I shared about the amount of loss I’ve walked through in the past few years.
The grief.
The heartbreak.
The confusion.
The pain that changes you forever.
And instead of judgment, I was met with compassion.
Adults gathered around me, poured wisdom into me, prayed over me, and spoke life into places that had felt empty for so long.
I cannot explain what that did for my heart.
Words I’ll Never Forget
Multiple people at the retreat called things out in me that I had forgotten were there.
They told me I have a powerful voice.
They told me I’m meant to use it.
They told me I’m going to impact people one day.
And one person spoke something over me that I will never forget:
“Seasons do end.”
That sentence wrecked me.
Because if I’m honest, I’ve felt stuck.
Stuck in grief.
Stuck in waiting.
Stuck between who I used to be and who I’m becoming.
But hearing those words reminded me that no hard season lasts forever.
Winter ends.
Storms pass.
Healing comes.
Sunrise Workouts, Photoshoots & Monkeys
Every morning started with workouts.
And if you know me, you know the ironic part is… I hate working out.
Meanwhile, some people there were bodybuilders and fitness lovers.
But it became about more than exercise.
It was about discipline.
Doing hard things.
Showing up anyway.
The next morning I was up at 5 a.m. for a photoshoot, then later we went on a monkey trail walk and saw the most breathtaking views.
I had pool time.
We went into Quepos with the group.
I laughed.
I rested.
I breathed.
I remembered life can still be beautiful.
The Beach Conversation I Needed
Later, I spent time on the beach with Diana and Micah.
They asked intentional questions — not surface questions, heart questions.
And one thing Micah asked me stopped me cold:
“What is one memory with your dad that really stands out to you?”
It took me a while to answer.
And honestly, it hurt.
For a moment I thought maybe I was forgetting him.
But I wasn’t forgetting him.
I was grieving him.
There’s a difference.
And I’m so thankful someone loved me enough to ask.
What Was Reigning in Me
On the last full day, the workshop theme was:
What is reigning in your life?
What is ruling you internally?
Because what reigns on the inside eventually bleeds onto the outside.
We talked about fear.
Shame.
Control.
Pain.
Anxiety.
Then we were asked to write on a sticky note what was reigning in our own lives.
Without hesitation, I wrote:
Fear.
Because fear had been taking up too much space in my mind for too long.
Then we threw those sticky notes away.
Leaving them there in Costa Rica.
The Knot I Couldn’t Untie
Next, we were handed fabric tied in knots representing trauma, pain, and obstacles we still have to work through.
I started untying mine.
And there was one knot I could not get undone.
I pulled at it.
Worked at it.
Used my nails.
Got frustrated.
I was one of the last ones still struggling.
And it felt like such a picture of my life.
Trying to heal alone.
Trying to fix grief alone.
Trying to untangle anxiety alone.
Then a guy nearby who had already finished asked if I wanted help.
I handed it to him.
He untied it in about fifteen seconds.
And it hit me instantly:
I’ve been trying to do life in isolation.
Trying harder wasn’t the answer.
Partnership was.
What I’m Taking Home
Afterward we were told to write one word we were taking home with us.
Mine was:
Partnership.
Because this retreat taught me that yes, I need Jesus.
But I also need people.
God places people in our lives to help carry burdens, speak truth, offer wisdom, and point us back to Him.
Healing will cost you the version of yourself that is comfortable.
The version that isolates.
The version that pretends to be fine.
The version that thinks asking for help is weakness.
The comfortable version of me would have stayed home.
The healing version of me came to Costa Rica.
My Last Night With Becky
On my last night, I spent time talking with Becky.
And she spoke life into me in such a genuine, powerful way.
Sometimes God uses people you barely know to say things your soul has needed to hear for years.
She reminded me of strength I forgot I had.
She reminded me that I’m not behind.
That God still has a plan.
That healing is happening, even when it feels slow.
And it was the perfect way to end the trip.
I Left Different
I came to Costa Rica tired, grieving, anxious, and carrying more than I realized.
I left feeling poured into.
Refreshed.
Awakened.
On fire for Christ again.
I left lighter.
I left stronger.
I left reminded that fear does not get to make my decisions anymore.
And maybe the bravest thing I did wasn’t getting on a plane alone.
Maybe it was obeying God when fear told me not to.
Maybe it was letting people love me.
Maybe it was allowing myself to heal.
Maybe it was learning that courage doesn’t always look fearless.
Sometimes courage looks like shaking hands.
Sometimes courage looks like tears in an airport.
Sometimes courage looks like showing up alone.
Sometimes courage looks like saying yes while your heart is racing.
and sometimes courage looks like sloths in Costa Rica
If you’re waiting to feel ready before you obey God, you may wait forever.
If you’re waiting for fear to disappear before you take the trip, start the healing journey, ask for help, or step into something new, you may stay stuck longer than you need to.
Do it scared.
Book the flight scared.
Have the hard conversation scared.
Walk into the room scared.
Trust again scared.
Pray scared.
Start over scared.
Because fear is loud, but it is not Lord.
You do not need perfect confidence to move forward.
You just need one brave yes.
I almost let fear keep me home.
Instead, I found healing in Costa Rica.
And I have a feeling there is healing waiting on the other side of your yes too.
