The beauty of a simple yes
It started with a simple yes — the kind of yes that doesn’t require a big plan, just a quiet nudge in your spirit and the willingness to follow it. A yes to an overnight road trip to Minneapolis. A yes to time with a dear friend I hadn’t seen in far too long. A yes to stepping outside the routine.
The weekend began with Saul at Grandma’s for a sleepover. On Saturday morning, I drove to pick him up, and since we were already up in North Fargo, we gladly made a stop at Michele’s Table, a local Parisian-style coffee shop wrapped in pink, filled with soft lighting, and the kind of charm that feels like a warm hug. We sipped hot chocolates while Saul filled me in on the latest in Fortnite, and I picked up the Le Frenchmen sandwich and La Cosette salad to take along for lunch on the road.
Back at home, I finished getting ready, packed my bag, gave hugs and said goodbye to the boys. After filling up my gas tank, I set off for the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Minneapolis. No big plans. No feeling like I was stuck in economy on a Spirit flight with small passengers demanding snacks and toys every fifteen minutes. Just open space, quiet roads, and a heart ready for connection.
My first stop was the Minneapolis Institute of Art, where their annual Art in Bloom exhibit was in full bloom, quite literally. It was a stunning celebration of spring, with designed floral arrangements thoughtfully placed alongside classic works of art that acted as inspiration. From a four-year-old’s art bouquet to elaborate displays, every gallery was alive with color and creativity. A soft reminder that new beginnings are always possible.
From there, I checked into the Elliot Park Hotel, a Marriott Autograph Collection property tucked into the downtown area. Its simplicity and calm were exactly what I needed — soft tones, beautiful design, overstuffed bedding, and a large piece of artwork above the bed: an eagle’s wing, which brought to mind Psalm 91. I unpacked, took a deep breath, and let myself settle in before heading out.
That evening, I met up with my sweet friend Ellisun, someone I hadn’t seen in far too long though our social media threads had bridged the time. Our dinner at 112 Eatery was one of those nights that fills you with more than just food. Ellisun carries a beauty and strength that feels both grounded and timeless. Her energy is one of a kind: calm, kind, and so real. We laughed and fell into the kind of conversation that only happens when you feel safe enough to let your guard down. We sipped on delicious drinks and shared plates – from the Burrata toast with walnut pesto, blue prawns with rooster mayo, gnocchi (I always forget how to say it) with lobster and arrabbiata sauce, eggplant cutlet with chili oil and yogurt, and to top it all off, the butterscotch budino for dessert. I was so immersed in savoring the dishes and conversation that there was no thought for photos.
As the evening slowed, we hugged and said goodnight. Back at the hotel, I paused, debating whether to pour a glass of Prosecco or climb into bed. I chose rest. I cozied into the covers, the room still and quiet, and let the fullness of the day settle into gratitude.
The next morning unfolded slowly. I lingered in bed with a strong cup of coffee, followed by a quiet workout and a few unhurried moments to just be before checking out.
As I made the drive home, I found myself reflecting on how often we talk ourselves out of moments like this. We convince ourselves that getting away is too much — too much effort, too much planning, too much time away from what’s expected of us. We tell ourselves we’ll go later. But I also know that sometimes later is the right decision. Whether its due to finances, being the sole caregiver, navigating a hard pregnancy, or caring for a newborn. I’m deeply grateful that Knox is now two-years-old, and we have just enough breathing room to say yes to getaways like this one.
This weekend reminded me:
Adventure doesn’t have to be extravagant.
Connection doesn’t have to be complicated.
This is what I want more of — not just the getaways or the dinners out, but a life that says yes to the friendships and moments that fill my soul.
A life that doesn’t always need to complicate things.
A heart that stays open, even when life is full.
Grateful for this yes.
Grateful for friendships that make these experiences possible.
Grateful for the space, the slowness, and the quiet reminder that life is meant to be lived.
