At 5:45 AM, I stood in the kitchen, bleary-eyed and barely awake. My toddler had wet the bed, the baby was crying, my lab coat was still in the laundry, and my heart was pounding. I hadn’t even had my coffee again. I remember whispering, “God, there must be more to life than this chaos.”

That was the turning point in my life. Not because the morning was particularly worse than others, but because I was done pretending I had it all together. Something had to change. And that change began not with a new planner or productivity hack, but with surrendering to something deeper: my faith...

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