Two Years Later: The Day Everything Changed — From Fear to Freedom

Yellowstone Lake
May 2025

 Two years later....my journey is my inspiration❣️

In the early hours of July 11, 2023—my 50th birthday—Keith took me to the ER. We didn’t know it then, but that day marked the beginning of a journey that would change everything.

What we thought was a precautionary trip turned into a 10-day hospital stay, two emergency surgeries, and ultimately, the cancer diagnosis we never saw coming. It felt like the ground shifted beneath us—fast and without warning.

That moment shook us to the core. But it also became the turning point. It led to one of the hardest and most personal decisions I’ve ever had to make: to decline chemotherapy. That choice didn’t come lightly—it came through tears, prayer, research, and a surrender I can’t quite explain. I opened my heart to God’s way of healing, and in doing so, found a peace that made no earthly sense but felt entirely divine.

It’s hard to believe it’s been two years now since life threw us that curveball—a health scare so big, so sudden, it brought everything to a halt. A cancer diagnosis doesn’t just shake your body; it rattles your soul, hijacks your peace, and sends your mind spiraling into fear, what-ifs, and sleepless nights.

I remember the exact moment the words hit me. It felt like the floor dropped out from under my feet. I couldn’t breathe. And yet somehow, in that darkness, I also felt God’s presence more clearly than I ever had before. When everything else was stripped away—my certainty, my sense of control, even my physical health—what remained was Him. And it was enough.

These last two years have been an emotional roller coaster. There have been moments of deep peace and moments of quiet panic. Outwardly, I may seem optimistic—and most days, I truly am—but that doesn’t mean I don’t still have to fight for my mindset. I’ve learned that keeping my heart and mind rooted in faith is not a one-time decision; it’s a daily practice. Some days, I wake up filled with gratitude and purpose. Other days, I wake up and have to remind myself to put my trust in God all over again.

And then… we changed everything.

We sold our house. We stepped away from the business. We said goodbye to what was familiar and safe, and we moved into a tiny home on wheels. Some people said it was too drastic—but to us, it was obedience. It was freedom. It was reclaiming our time, our health, our joy.

Jenny Lake 
April 2025

I want to pause right here and say something important. In September of 2023 when I declined chemotherapy, I was told—plainly—that I likely wouldn’t still be here today. But here I am —

Alive❣️ 

Well❣️ 

Thriving❣️

I didn’t just beat the odds— I walked through fire, emerged with scars and strength, and rebuilt myself from the ashes. I’m not just living—I’m really living. And I share this not as medical advice or boast, but as a testament to listening closely to the voice of God and walking in obedience, even when the road is uncertain.

Paintbrush Canyon hike
June 2025

Today, we get to live full-time in our RV, exploring the country, workamping, and soaking in the beauty of God’s creation. Every sunrise over a mountain range reminds us just how present He is — painting the sky with purpose and promise. Like this early morning creation (picture below) where the heavens were brushed in lavender, rose gold, and amber, reflecting off the still water below like a divine masterpiece. Moments like this are gentle reminders that we are exactly where we are meant to be — held in His hands, surrounded by His wonder. We’re no longer just surviving, but we’re finally truly living!

📸 credit: our new friends Richard & Debbie Taylor
Teton Cabins - morning of July 3, 2025

Along the way, Keith and I have also discovered a new kind of love—a love for the open trail, for towering pines and winding paths, for still lakes and summit views that take your breath away. We’ve fallen in love with hiking together, exploring places that feel untouched and sacred, places where the only sounds are our footsteps, the rustle of wildlife, rushing waterfalls and the whisper of wind through the trees. There’s something deeply healing about moving your body through creation, side by side with your soulmate, surrounded by God’s handiwork. In those moments—dirt on our boots, sun on our shoulders—we feel more alive, more connected, and more at peace than ever before. 

Buckskin State Park
Parker AZ - March 2025

This lifestyle didn’t just happen overnight. It was born out of pain, refined through faith, and made possible by God’s provision and grace. We’ve learned to live with less, appreciate more, and lean hard into the life we’ve been given. I don’t know what the next two years will hold. None of us do. But I do know this: God will meet us there, just as He met us in that dark place two years ago.

We are grateful for every single day. For healing. For growth. For second chances. And most of all—for a God who never left our side.

I want to be transparent and honest as I close this out:

All of us—every single one—will eventually lay down this physical body for the last time. It’s not a matter of if… only when. None of us knows the day or the hour, but we do know that it will come.

So don’t wait. Don’t put off the dreams in your heart or the calling God has placed on your life. If He’s stirring something inside you, follow it. If there’s something you long to do, pursue it. We aren’t promised tomorrow—and we certainly aren’t promised the “perfect time.”

What we do have is this moment. And it is enough. 

Live it fully. Live it boldly. And above all, live it! 

Valley of Fire 
April 2025

I’ll close with a verse that God has been putting on my heart.

Romans 8:28 (NKJV)

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.

Thanks for your love, your support and your continued prayers!  Until next time…..keep joy in your mind and in your heart❣️

Much love and many blessings, 

Ali 🫶🏼✌🏼