This morning I threw a post up with a bunch of gibberish because I was trying to sort out what was happening with our blog posts. I guess I somehow managed to delete them from the main page. But, as I sat sorting out my posts and trying to figure out what I did, it occurred to me that others who receive notification of my posts might wonder why I simply typed

a bunch of random letters into the field. Truth is, it made me wonder about the true meaning of a “test.” Nowhere did I mention this was a test post. I should have. But hindsight, as they say, is 50/50. Or is it 20/20?
A test in life can come in many forms, and when you are trying to find your way, those tests can feel limiting, scary, and downright unfair.
Sometimes the tests are small and inconvenient—like accidentally deleting something you’ve worked hard to create. Other times, they arrive in ways that change the course of your life forever. They challenge your faith, your resilience, your patience, and your ability to keep moving forward when every part of you wants to stop.
Over the past several years, our family has faced tests that I never would have chosen. The loss of Nicholas was one of them. The court proceedings that followed were another. Sitting through a trial, hearing difficult details, reliving painful moments, and waiting for justice can feel like being stuck in a test that never seems to end.
But what I have learned is that the purpose of a test is not always to determine whether we pass or fail. Sometimes its purpose is to reveal who we are becoming.
Through Nicholas’ life, and through the unimaginable loss that followed, I have seen extraordinary examples of courage, compassion, and perseverance. I have watched people rally around one another. I have seen young people find their voices. I have seen kindness emerge from grief and purpose emerge from pain.
The trial itself was not something anyone wanted to endure. Yet, beginning to reach the other side of it has reminded me that even the hardest chapters eventually turn the page. The memories remain. The loss remains. But so does the opportunity to choose what comes next.
Nicholas taught many people lessons during his short life. Perhaps one of the greatest is that our story is not defined solely by our struggles. It is defined by how we respond to them.
Every test eventually teaches us something. Some teach patience. Some teach strength. Some teach us who will stand beside us when life becomes difficult. And some teach us that even after the darkest nights, morning still comes.
Today, as I sorted through blog posts and fixed a simple mistake, I was reminded that not every test needs to be feared. Some are simply opportunities to pause, learn, and move forward a little wiser than before.
The biggest tests of my life have shown me that while we cannot always choose our circumstances, we can choose what we build from them. In Nicholas’ memory, I choose to keep building. I choose to keep creating. I choose to keep telling stories, supporting others, and finding hope in places where it would be easier to see only heartbreak.
And perhaps that is the real test—not whether we avoid adversity, but whether we continue to move forward despite it.
So if life feels like a test right now, keep going. The lesson may not be clear today. But one day, you may look back and realize that what felt like an ending was actually preparing you for a new beginning.

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