You don't need another rebrand

What you're building doesn't need a new name. It needs your continued yes.

Every year around this time, I find myself itching to start fresh — archive everything, start over. And this comes right after I wrestle with the tension to go incognito. Like, do I really need to be an online girly? I sit with what I’m building, sometimes frustrated that I’m not where my brain thinks I should be. Then I find a place to land.

The tension is the middle.

The decision is to keep going.

You don’t need another rebrand.

You need encouragement to continue with what you’re already building.

Building isn’t linear. You have to take several steps ahead to pause, pivot, walk backwards, and begin again. But it’s a continuation. Who you are is who you are. Every day is a new opportunity to learn who you are today, with the experiences of the past giving you context for where you’ve been and wisdom for where you’re going.

This is why I appreciate college. It introduces you to cultures, backgrounds, and civil discourse you wouldn't have if you were only surrounded by what's familiar. It's in the hard questions —the ones we're afraid to ask because we think they'll cost us something—because there are places where wisdom alone isn't enough. Where only lived experience can carry us forward. In order to learn, we must be willing to try. To be uncomfortable. To have tough conversations. To place ourselves outside our comfort zones. And sometimes the most uncomfortable place is stillness. Where there's nothing left to do but sit with your thoughts and God's voice. It's there that silence births more than harvest seasons.

And often, it's not that we aren't where we think we should be. It's that we aren't giving ourselves permission to fully commit to what we know sets our soul on fire, because life and disappointment quenched our wonder.

I know what it’s like to be a little girl full of dreams. Until growing up teaches you the language of suffering. A suffering that only makes sense through the lens of faith, and even then, it’s hard. It knocks the wind out of you. Life looks nothing like those childhood eyes imagined. It’s hard to pray. Hard to read your Bible. Hard to keep going. Hard to be honest about where you are because pressure says we are supposed to always have it together.

What happens if we return to childlike faith? What if there were no limits outside of surrender to what our heart truly desires?

I believe that decisions made from a place of relationship with God can’t become bad decisions. He’s factored in every choice and our immaturity. He knows. It doesn’t throw Him through a loop. Surrender and dependence work hand in hand.

It’s a continuation. It’s a heart aligned with the One who created us. It’s making space for the now—without starting over—because everything gathered makes up the larger picture.

It’s not really about people.

But it is.

We aren't living our lives for their applause. This isn't a conference call. At the same time, people are directly impacted by what we do because God uses people to advance the kingdom message. People get to see the middle moments based on what we choose to share. We control the narrative, not in a manipulative way, but in a way that honors God and the boundaries around what He’s entrusted us to build.

And building looks different for all of us.

Building doesn't always look like a brand or a business. Not everyone is meant for stages. Yet most of us are asked to build in ways that make sense to who we are.

Cultivating the seeds in your child so they can become who God destined them to be.

Pouring into someone else’s vision because you believe in what God gave them.

Serving your local community because you want people to see the fullness of who they are.

You can add your hands to a plow that’s already built. Or you can build from no blueprint in your bloodline. Either way, to build is to obey. It’s using your hands, your experience, your uniqueness for whatever is set before you on the race you’re running. It’s doing it well and finding joy in the trials that show up uninvited because those trials are supposed to build character that produces an internal endurance.

It’s a continuation.

It’s a shift in perspective.

It’s starting with what you have, where you are, allowing yourself to become fully immersed in what’s before you without the stinking thinking. Without the self-doubt dressed up as hyperspiritualization. Yes, pray about it. But don’t let prayer become the reason you don’t move in the direction God is clearly outlining.

Be okay with getting it wrong. With sitting down and doing something else for a season. But don’t abandon what sets your soul on fire. If you keep coming back to it, pick it up from where you are now, with everything you’ve learned, and the willingness to keep moving forward.

This is your sign to stop playing yourself.

To bet on yourself.

To believe what God has said about you.

After all, He created you for such a time as this. It’s worth committing to see it through without the fear of success punking you out of your destiny,

Janae Carlee