Have you ever tried to create something out of nothing?

I usually avoid anything of the sort.

Even with my family, which is perhaps the greatest creation of my life, I cannot say I created them out of nothing. The entire time, I referenced the love and nurture that went into making me.

I remember being a 22-year-old new hire for a campus ministry organization. I resented being placed on a campus where I would have to (re)create something from near nothing. While I met some beautiful people who have enriched my life, the process of it was nearly soul-crushing for me.

Similarly, creating a life in California without any roots here has been a constant struggle. I find myself constantly comparing it to where I was from and the circle that surrounded my life until I left.

Last year, I took a pilgrimage. More than two years into leaving the old, I needed a break from the work of creating from nothing, to rest and make space in my lungs for deep breaths.

On the other side of that pilgrimage I have become something new and I have made something new. Both were processes already unfolding, but the trip was something of a marker.

The last pieces of the old were tearing away and needed to release in order for me to take flight.

When I finished climbing Croagh Patrick, a 4.3-mile ascent and the most challenging part of our journey, I was met with the news that my husband had planned a surprise for me. He gave me the chance to choose a piece of art in a studio near our accommodations in Westport.

This was an especially sweet surprise because he was not on the trip. He had worked from home with multiple accomplices to determine the best time and place on the journey around the Emerald Isle to give me a special souvenir.

On his end, the details were flawless. On our end, as pilgrims, our legs were jello, my sweat was stinky, and I had less than an hour to get to the art studio and choose a piece of art. Still jet-lagged and constantly on the move, I had not yet had the opportunity to really take in Ireland and consider how I wanted to remember it. The limitations forced me to make a quick decision in the moments before the studio closed.

I thought of what Tracey, my leadership coach, had said about other decisions.”Go with your first instinct.” She was reminding me to trust my gut.

It seemed silly, but my instinct was drawn to a woodcut hot-air balloon with the words “Up, up, and away in my beautiful balloon.” Apparently, it is a lyric from The 5th Dimension, a band I had never heard of. It was the colors, the fun and whimsy, and perhaps, subconsciously, this idea of taking flight that caught my eye.

I was ready to take flight, to leave behind the things that we were weighing me down. To launch ahead with my new endeavors unencumbered, embracing the process of creating from nothing.

And thankfully, by God’s grace, it’s not nothing anymore.