Here is the link to the Evergreen Summit to watch Sharon share her story about life or death experience and how she has rebuilt her life.

Hey - Hello there. Great that you are dropping in to say hello. Lets start our greeting with : What is one thing you are grateful for? I will go first.... in the comments.... It can be a gif, one word, one sentence, one paragraph or if you want to start your own post in "Tell my story". please do.

I grew up in ministry. Both of my parents were ministers, and our home lived like a sanctuary — open, welcoming, prayer-filled, conversation-rich, shaped by faith and service. Every Sunday, before church even began, the women I affectionately called “the little old ladies” were waiting at the entrance just to greet me. They weren’t actually that old, but from my child’s perspective, they were the wise grown-ups who carried warmth and presence. Their greetings were the sunrise of my week. They saw me first, asked me about baseball, remembered details, and taught me what care really looks like: noticing first, greeting warmly, listening to understand, and caring because you choose to. They were some of the first caregivers in my life, quietly forming the blueprint of my heart. For 25+ years, I worked in senior living as an Activity Director, creating engagement, inclusion, connection, and belonging for others. When I later transitioned into mental health work, I realized I was still doing the same ministry at its core — helping people feel safe enough to slow down, breathe, and reconnect. In 2024, I started Uber driving here in Orlando, Florida. At first it was just driving, but almost immediately I began noticing caregivers in my backseat. Most never announced it, many never called themselves caregivers at all, but I could see it in their posture — tired shoulders, deep sighs, bodies carrying physical stress and minds still scanning tomorrow. In those quiet rides, I found myself doing what the back-pew ladies had modeled for me long ago: noticing first, holding space, listening more than talking, greeting people like they matter. And at the very same time I was driving for Uber, I started attending Edge United Methodist Church in Groveland. Something shifted in me there. The stories I was hearing in my car and the ministry I had lived around my whole life began to connect. I felt a fire lit under me to find a way to serve caregivers. Not because I had to, but because I needed to. I knew there had to be a better way for faith-led communities to show up for the people who quietly carry the heaviest load.

I was very young when I learned how much of yourself you can lose while trying to hold a relationship together. Over time, I became an empty shell, i was living for someone else, isolated from friends and family, and slowly losing my sense of self, my trust, and my youth. At the time, I didn’t recognise it for what it was. I believed what I was told, and I stayed. When the relationship ended, I was devastated. Not because I had done something wrong but because I had done everything I could. I was left holding the weight of his choices, his actions, and the belief that I was not enough. We were young. It was my first long relationship. We had a child together. Letting go felt like losing everything, even though I was the one who chose to leave. Looking back now, I know that leaving saved me. More than that, it gave my daughter a different life, a safer one, a fuller one. At the time, I couldn’t see that. I only felt the grief and the heartbreak of letting go of someone I loved, even after everything. Recently, he took his own life. And with that came a new kind of grief. Complex, heavy, and unexpected. I grieve for the pain he must have been carrying. I grieve for the children he left behind. I feel anger that this was the choice he made, and deep sadness that he felt so low he could see no other way. Most of all, I grieve for my daughter, and the loss she now carries. I don’t write this to blame or to demonise him. We were young. We were both shaped by that time. I have done the work to heal what I lived through, and I can see clearly now how that relationship shaped meand how leaving it changed the course of my life. This feels like a before and after moment. I’m standing somewhere in between. Im holding compassion, grief, and clarity all at once, learning that more than one truth can exist at the same time.

I was asked tonight if I would participate in an open Journaling experience by @Jeremy Miller and his beautiful community Mighty Caregiver Voices. the concept - correct me if I am wrong Jeremy - is to start your own thread as your own "open" public Journal of your experiences as a care giver with the goal of having support from the community. Not one to turn down an opportunity to help others to grow and to dream bigger and to acheive your goals - I agreed and tonight began my first part of my Journal. I have copied the first part of my journal to share this with you. as a connection and in a way being accountable for my own journey. I don't mind saying - I am feeling the vulnerability already. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I am starting my Journal with this saying "To lay down your life for another". as I feel that it sums up the heart of the experience of a carer, a care taker. I thought I had heard from God - I was using my gifts for God - singing and leading praise and worship as directors of a christian church in Sydney alongside my guitarist husband. I had gone to Uni to become a nurse so that I could "go" with my husband on mission trips to help people with medical outreach. I was working at a cardiac unit for children in Sydney. I had 3 children of my own, I had started a not for profit to provide resources for Solomon Islands community (we were living in Sydney Australia) and I had followed my passion for helping others that led me to service in the Parramatta Lions Club in Sydney as a Director and President. then something shook my world pretty much. My own beautiful mum passed quite suddenly with Pancreatic Cancer. Life is precious. A gift that we are given. Was I where I was meant to be and doing what I should be doing.