This began as a sweet, simple story about how I switched careers and it was the best decision I had ever made… and fortunately for anyone reading this, it has turned into a far less boring, raw and honest testimony about how starting over has been a theme in my life, is a theme in all of our lives, and how I have learned to acknowledge and embrace it instead of crying (like I used to).
I grew up in a small town. I graduated from a small, rural school district, and couldn’t wait to escape. I attended a very large university in Long Island. After graduating, I stayed close to the university, taking graduate classes and essentially just enjoying my 20s. Somehow, (that’s a story for another time) I ended up building my life just 20 miles away from the small town that I grew up in, that I couldn’t wait to get away from. I am thankful for the road that I travelled, and I look forward to whatever the future brings, because I know, I KNOW, that even if I am not listening, even if my ears are closed, God will lead me right to the place where I belong. It’s much easier if I’m listening, though.
The first time that I really understood this notion was the day before I had to leave my dorm. After graduating, we were given two days to move out of our dorm rooms. I had signed a lease to move into an apartment nearby. I had a job. I had friends. I was 500 miles away from my home, which was safe to me. Even though I had everything lined up, I was terrified. I had lived on this campus with the same group of people for 4 years. I did well in school, but my life outside of classes was lived recklessly. I felt safe, wrapped up in the arms of the campus and my friend group. On this specific day, my roommate had already moved back to her home. My parents had helped me pack everything up and were on their way back home as well. The campus was empty. Just a few stragglers packing their cars and the maintenance crew cleaning up from the graduation festivities. I remember sitting on the floor of my dorm room. I wasn’t ready to leave that part of my life. I didn’t WANT to live somewhere else. I didn’t WANT to have to make arrangements to see my friends, I WANTED them to be right across the hall so that I could call their names, and they would come right over. I was wallowing in all the ‘wants’ and ‘did not wants’ of my heart. How was I going to do this?? I was sobbing. And that’s when something moved in me that said, “go to church.” Hmmmmm… I wasn’t completely sure where the closest church was. But I was so desperate and longing for direction that I got into my car and found a church. And, as providence would have it, I thought I might walk into an empty church where I could just sit and gather my thoughts, but instead I showed up right on time for a remembrance mass.
I sat in the back row. The opening hymn was “Be Not Afraid.” I’ll never forget the image of the priest as he said, “We can’t know everything; we can’t DO everything, but we can acknowledge what we know, and we can do what we can. JUST DO WHAT YOU CAN.” He emphasized it so loudly that it rang through my body. Here I was, a 22-year-old mess, terrified and worried sick that I wasn’t sure what to do next or how to do it. And here was this priest and this choir in this church. Just talking right to my heart. So, naturally, I was sobbing again. And because I was young and scared, I got up and left and sat in my car instead of staying for the rest of the mass. And it was spoken to my heart—I didn’t hear God’s voice, nothing supernatural came into my car to speak to me—it was a feeling of calmness deep in my bones. I sat in silence, and I knew this: I hadn’t been safely wrapped in the arms of my campus and friends group, I had been safely wrapped in the arms of my Father. And I still was. And I still am. I didn’t need to call my friends’ names, I needed to call His name.
I tell you this story because it was the first time that I really felt God in my bones. The stillness of his response to my wants. The way He slapped me out of fear by responding to my wants by fulfilling my needs. I was 22 years old. That was the day that I made a conscious decision to have faith over fear.
Please don’t read this and think that God spoke to me once and then I lived my life as a fearless warrior. Nope. I have cried out to Him so many times since then. I imagine that He gets frustrated with my cries, but I am taught (and have been shown) that He comes to us with a love and understanding that we cannot comprehend. So, I don’t try to comprehend it. He answers every time if I just listen. Some examples of times that I cried out in fear: when I wasn’t sure if the guy I was dating was the one, or when I wasn’t sure if I was going to be single forever, when I wasn’t sure if I should take a job offer, when I wasn’t sure if I should move back to my small town, when I wasn’t sure if I should go back to school to complete a master’s degree, when I wasn’t sure if I should leave my church, go back to church, do a, b, c, or d because ultimately I wasn’t sure if I should let go of the plans I had made in my head about every single thing because the plans that I had made were different from the plans that God had for me.
Every time His plans are different than mine, an inevitable change introduces itself to my life. And I cry. Every time. The difference is that now, over the past fifteen years, I have grown to trust the change. And my cries of fear have been replaced with cries of excitement (and still a tiny bit of fear). I have come to realize that when I’m being pulled in a new direction, that God is placing me where He needs me to be.
Ten years ago, I was a successful high school teacher in a school district that I loved. I loved everything about it. I had a six-year-old step daughter, a six-month-old infant, and had just learned that I was pregnant with my son. Something snapped inside of me that caused me to realize that I could not possibly be called to teach and be the mom that I wanted to be. I cried every time I dropped my daughter off at day care, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to welcome another baby into my life and then leave them both for the entire day. I did my job well but became inwardly unhappy and began to resent teaching. We had just purchased a house, and I knew that I couldn’t stop working. My husband offered to work extra hours, even get another job. And I didn’t want that, either. I cried nonstop. Luckily, toward the end of that school year, budget cuts came into play, and I was able volunteer for my position to be cut, which meant that I would be paid minimally, which was enough for us to support our family. I was relieved, and thankful. And I stayed home for two years and loved each minute of it. But then I felt this calling… to do more.
I can’t tell you this enough: when I feel called to do more, my initial reaction is always something along the lines of “seriously?” In my own personal faith journey, learning to listen came easily, but learning to trust was more of a struggle. My urge is always to resist.
So, after much reflection, and conversations with family and friends, I determined that the pull to do more was calling me to work again, even though I didn’t want to. I decided to get into real estate. I figured that it might be perfect, because I can make my own hours, showing houses only when I was available. And I liked the idea of helping other people move forward in their lives, which gave me a good reason to leave my kids for an hour or two. It would be stressless and easy. I mean, I loved watching HGTV, and I am a people person, so how hard could it be? The rose-colored glasses that I own have really strong lenses. Getting into real estate was hard. There were so many experienced agents who knew so much more than I did. It was intimidating. My own sphere of influence was constantly making comments like “You’re too nice to be in real estate” and “You were meant to be a teacher,” and I got into this place in my mind again where I was crying out to God!! “Why did you pull me in this direction?! I don’t get it! I wasn’t made for this.” And there, in the stillness of my bones, I felt Him again. “You were made to show people My love.” Gulp. How? “Keep going.” Arms up. Okay, I’ll keep going. And then suddenly a snowball of events took place.
An agent in my office had been showing houses to a family that she didn’t connect well with. She asked me to take over. This family was prequalified for $34,000. I was showing them houses in the gut of the city. Getting to know them, they expressed to me the discrimination that they had experienced because of the price range they were in. I was infuriated. THIS. This is what God wanted me to do. Everyone deserves to have a home. Everyone. I had a home that meant so much to me. There were people out there who didn’t have that—who were longing for it. And nobody would help them. I was faced with client after client after client who had bad experiences buying or selling homes in the past, client after client who were told they could never own a home. This was the niche that I was in for my first year of real estate. It was SO stressful. And I loved it. I was a vehicle for God’s grace. And my kids were witnessing it as they grew. I had been humbled to a point that cooperating agents were complimenting my demeanor, and my business grew. It grew to a point that I was spending more time working than I was spending at home. I was loving it, and my family was supportive, but I was starting to feel that pull again…one thing led to another, and I was inspired to start a team of agents. I wanted to have a team with the same belief system—a hardworking team of agents who believed that everyone deserves a home. It worked well but wasn’t as ideal as I had hoped. But God had a plan for that, too. As a leader for a team of agents, I felt it was my responsibility to grow their businesses, and so I felt that it was necessary to educate myself in all things real estate. Rather than just sell, sell, sell, I began to attend classes and listen to podcasts and read books that would expand my knowledge of the industry. I learned to time block. And suddenly I had more family time than I had ever had!! Life was great!
As my successes increased, I was offered leadership opportunities within my firm that exposed a level of corruption that didn’t sit well with me. In due course, this led to an inner calling to leave the brokerage. Terrifying!! I had built such a business. How could I start over somewhere else?! But I knew that I had to do it. I had started over before. So many times. As I left my office for the last time, my heart was in my stomach. I was walking away from something that I was completely dedicated to. I had accepted my current position, which allows for me to teach and sell homes, and I had faith that God would guide me through this new start. And it has been an amazing journey, one that I am thankful for.
What I have learned is that as life moves forward, change is inevitable. We can choose to feed our faith or feed our fears. One thing that I know is that if I come from a place of love (love the action, not love the emotion), my faith will eat my fears for dinner. When I GRASP onto my faith and allow for my faith to grow, then every other area of my life grows with it. I love how this happens! And although it is terrifying, it is both exciting and humbling!
I grew up in a small town. I graduated from a small, rural school district, and couldn’t wait to escape. I attended a very large university in Long Island. After graduating, I stayed close to the university, taking graduate classes and essentially just enjoying my 20s. Somehow, (that’s a story for another time) I ended up building my life just 20 miles away from the small town that I grew up in, that I couldn’t wait to get away from. I am thankful for the road that I travelled, and I look forward to whatever the future brings, because I know, I KNOW, that even if I am not listening, even if my ears are closed, God will lead me right to the place where I belong. It’s much easier if I’m listening, though.
The first time that I really understood this notion was the day before I had to leave my dorm. After graduating, we were given two days to move out of our dorm rooms. I had signed a lease to move into an apartment nearby. I had a job. I had friends. I was 500 miles away from my home, which was safe to me. Even though I had everything lined up, I was terrified. I had lived on this campus with the same group of people for 4 years. I did well in school, but my life outside of classes was lived recklessly. I felt safe, wrapped up in the arms of the campus and my friend group. On this specific day, my roommate had already moved back to her home. My parents had helped me pack everything up and were on their way back home as well. The campus was empty. Just a few stragglers packing their cars and the maintenance crew cleaning up from the graduation festivities. I remember sitting on the floor of my dorm room. I wasn’t ready to leave that part of my life. I didn’t WANT to live somewhere else. I didn’t WANT to have to make arrangements to see my friends, I WANTED them to be right across the hall so that I could call their names, and they would come right over. I was wallowing in all the ‘wants’ and ‘did not wants’ of my heart. How was I going to do this?? I was sobbing. And that’s when something moved in me that said, “go to church.” Hmmmmm… I wasn’t completely sure where the closest church was. But I was so desperate and longing for direction that I got into my car and found a church. And, as providence would have it, I thought I might walk into an empty church where I could just sit and gather my thoughts, but instead I showed up right on time for a remembrance mass.
I sat in the back row. The opening hymn was “Be Not Afraid.” I’ll never forget the image of the priest as he said, “We can’t know everything; we can’t DO everything, but we can acknowledge what we know, and we can do what we can. JUST DO WHAT YOU CAN.” He emphasized it so loudly that it rang through my body. Here I was, a 22-year-old mess, terrified and worried sick that I wasn’t sure what to do next or how to do it. And here was this priest and this choir in this church. Just talking right to my heart. So, naturally, I was sobbing again. And because I was young and scared, I got up and left and sat in my car instead of staying for the rest of the mass. And it was spoken to my heart—I didn’t hear God’s voice, nothing supernatural came into my car to speak to me—it was a feeling of calmness deep in my bones. I sat in silence, and I knew this: I hadn’t been safely wrapped in the arms of my campus and friends group, I had been safely wrapped in the arms of my Father. And I still was. And I still am. I didn’t need to call my friends’ names, I needed to call His name.
I tell you this story because it was the first time that I really felt God in my bones. The stillness of his response to my wants. The way He slapped me out of fear by responding to my wants by fulfilling my needs. I was 22 years old. That was the day that I made a conscious decision to have faith over fear.
Please don’t read this and think that God spoke to me once and then I lived my life as a fearless warrior. Nope. I have cried out to Him so many times since then. I imagine that He gets frustrated with my cries, but I am taught (and have been shown) that He comes to us with a love and understanding that we cannot comprehend. So, I don’t try to comprehend it. He answers every time if I just listen. Some examples of times that I cried out in fear: when I wasn’t sure if the guy I was dating was the one, or when I wasn’t sure if I was going to be single forever, when I wasn’t sure if I should take a job offer, when I wasn’t sure if I should move back to my small town, when I wasn’t sure if I should go back to school to complete a master’s degree, when I wasn’t sure if I should leave my church, go back to church, do a, b, c, or d because ultimately I wasn’t sure if I should let go of the plans I had made in my head about every single thing because the plans that I had made were different from the plans that God had for me.
Every time His plans are different than mine, an inevitable change introduces itself to my life. And I cry. Every time. The difference is that now, over the past fifteen years, I have grown to trust the change. And my cries of fear have been replaced with cries of excitement (and still a tiny bit of fear). I have come to realize that when I’m being pulled in a new direction, that God is placing me where He needs me to be.
Ten years ago, I was a successful high school teacher in a school district that I loved. I loved everything about it. I had a six-year-old step daughter, a six-month-old infant, and had just learned that I was pregnant with my son. Something snapped inside of me that caused me to realize that I could not possibly be called to teach and be the mom that I wanted to be. I cried every time I dropped my daughter off at day care, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to welcome another baby into my life and then leave them both for the entire day. I did my job well but became inwardly unhappy and began to resent teaching. We had just purchased a house, and I knew that I couldn’t stop working. My husband offered to work extra hours, even get another job. And I didn’t want that, either. I cried nonstop. Luckily, toward the end of that school year, budget cuts came into play, and I was able volunteer for my position to be cut, which meant that I would be paid minimally, which was enough for us to support our family. I was relieved, and thankful. And I stayed home for two years and loved each minute of it. But then I felt this calling… to do more.
I can’t tell you this enough: when I feel called to do more, my initial reaction is always something along the lines of “seriously?” In my own personal faith journey, learning to listen came easily, but learning to trust was more of a struggle. My urge is always to resist.
So, after much reflection, and conversations with family and friends, I determined that the pull to do more was calling me to work again, even though I didn’t want to. I decided to get into real estate. I figured that it might be perfect, because I can make my own hours, showing houses only when I was available. And I liked the idea of helping other people move forward in their lives, which gave me a good reason to leave my kids for an hour or two. It would be stressless and easy. I mean, I loved watching HGTV, and I am a people person, so how hard could it be? The rose-colored glasses that I own have really strong lenses. Getting into real estate was hard. There were so many experienced agents who knew so much more than I did. It was intimidating. My own sphere of influence was constantly making comments like “You’re too nice to be in real estate” and “You were meant to be a teacher,” and I got into this place in my mind again where I was crying out to God!! “Why did you pull me in this direction?! I don’t get it! I wasn’t made for this.” And there, in the stillness of my bones, I felt Him again. “You were made to show people My love.” Gulp. How? “Keep going.” Arms up. Okay, I’ll keep going. And then suddenly a snowball of events took place.
An agent in my office had been showing houses to a family that she didn’t connect well with. She asked me to take over. This family was prequalified for $34,000. I was showing them houses in the gut of the city. Getting to know them, they expressed to me the discrimination that they had experienced because of the price range they were in. I was infuriated. THIS. This is what God wanted me to do. Everyone deserves to have a home. Everyone. I had a home that meant so much to me. There were people out there who didn’t have that—who were longing for it. And nobody would help them. I was faced with client after client after client who had bad experiences buying or selling homes in the past, client after client who were told they could never own a home. This was the niche that I was in for my first year of real estate. It was SO stressful. And I loved it. I was a vehicle for God’s grace. And my kids were witnessing it as they grew. I had been humbled to a point that cooperating agents were complimenting my demeanor, and my business grew. It grew to a point that I was spending more time working than I was spending at home. I was loving it, and my family was supportive, but I was starting to feel that pull again…one thing led to another, and I was inspired to start a team of agents. I wanted to have a team with the same belief system—a hardworking team of agents who believed that everyone deserves a home. It worked well but wasn’t as ideal as I had hoped. But God had a plan for that, too. As a leader for a team of agents, I felt it was my responsibility to grow their businesses, and so I felt that it was necessary to educate myself in all things real estate. Rather than just sell, sell, sell, I began to attend classes and listen to podcasts and read books that would expand my knowledge of the industry. I learned to time block. And suddenly I had more family time than I had ever had!! Life was great!
As my successes increased, I was offered leadership opportunities within my firm that exposed a level of corruption that didn’t sit well with me. In due course, this led to an inner calling to leave the brokerage. Terrifying!! I had built such a business. How could I start over somewhere else?! But I knew that I had to do it. I had started over before. So many times. As I left my office for the last time, my heart was in my stomach. I was walking away from something that I was completely dedicated to. I had accepted my current position, which allows for me to teach and sell homes, and I had faith that God would guide me through this new start. And it has been an amazing journey, one that I am thankful for.
What I have learned is that as life moves forward, change is inevitable. We can choose to feed our faith or feed our fears. One thing that I know is that if I come from a place of love (love the action, not love the emotion), my faith will eat my fears for dinner. When I GRASP onto my faith and allow for my faith to grow, then every other area of my life grows with it. I love how this happens! And although it is terrifying, it is both exciting and humbling!
About Kristin Shanahan

Kristin Shanahan is thrilled to be a mother of 4 beautiful children. Her husband, Neal, is a teacher in the Syracuse City School District in New York. Formerly an English and Special Education teacher, now Kristin works passionately to help people find a home of their own, no matter the obstacles they face. She loves teaching real estate agents to find their true potential in the industry. Kristin enjoys reading, writing, music, being outdoors, and just about anything involving her children and family. You can follow Kristin at www.facebook.com/kristinsommersshanahan or instagram @kristinshanahanrealestateboss.