I never understood how my father decided where we would go; I was convinced he just threw darts at a map. Have you ever driven from Los Angeles to Canada with six kids in a car and a mattress on the roof? It was unconventional, but it was family time, and we always managed to make it interesting.

As the last of six children, I enjoyed a life very different from that of my oldest sister. She spent her first years surrounded by strangers in a cannery in northern California, while I spent mine surrounded by family.

Risk can enrich our lives—by pushing us out of our comfort zone to confront our worst fears. The story of my parents demonstrates the value of taking a risk and betting everything on a dream.

Our attendees were calling this the most inspiring weekend they’d ever had. I smiled to myself, thinking how scared I’d been on the ride out. But I still had a nervous feeling in my stomach, and I knew it wouldn’t go away until after the fashion show.

Transitions in life are like storms at sea; they test the integrity of our character. It’s during these times of transition that we learn what we’re made of.

Are you feeling the urge, deep down inside, to start your own business too? Maybe you feel it when you talk about the dreams you once had. Use that feeling to begin again, to cast a new vision for your life. What would it look like to live your dream?

We’d just come back from our second trip to Maui in twelve months. Our kids were in private schools and, for the first time in a long time, we had more than enough. Yet, for the first time, my life felt empty.

On the Camino, I felt God tugging at my heart the entire time, reminding me to trust in Him. I imagined that’s how Peter must have felt when God asked him, Do you love me? And, like Peter, I always responded, Of course I trust you, Father! But God wants to see physical actions as well as words.

The women told me they had both been born and raised in Pamplona, yet had never done the Camino. They were shocked to hear I was traveling alone, and called me valiente—brave. Encouraged by their kind words, I thanked them profusely and continued on my way towards Pie de Perdon - a steep mountain range.

I woke up in France, alone and tired, with only my high-school French skills to depend on. Although I’d been overseas before, I had never traveled alone.  For the next 30 days, I would be completely on my own.