Rebel Talk: Sacrifice

In Minnesota, we don't just experience summer — we live for it.

After what feels like an endless winter and a stubbornly slow spring, those first warm days hit differently. You feel it deep in your bones. The air shifts. The grass smells sweeter. And suddenly — the calendar starts filling up faster than you can say "Lake Life."

For me, there’s nothing quite like heading up to the cabin. It's tucked away, about five hours north. A different world. A world where the pace slows, the sunsets linger, and time almost feels like it holds its breath for you.

That cabin isn’t just a place — it’s a vision I’ve been building piece by piece. It's part of why I chased my pilot's license so fiercely — a dream to shrink that five-hour haul down to a quick hour-and-a-half flight. More time up there. More time unplugged. More time for peace.

But life… life has a way of humbling even the best laid plans.

When I look at my kids' schedules this summer — split time with their mom, travel baseball, lacrosse tournaments, a Black Hills trip — it’s clear:
This summer, the cabin won't see me much.

And you know what?

That's okay.

Because here's the truth that hits harder the older I get — Sacrifice isn’t losing something. It’s choosing what matters most.

Right now, my kids are living some of the best summers of their lives — chasing dreams, making memories, learning teamwork, building friendships.

Wherever they are doing what they love is exactly where I need to be.

And that cabin?

It’ll still be there. It’ll still be waiting. Every little trip I do sneak in, every improvement I make this summer, it’s an investment for the summers still to come.

Maybe you're standing in a season like that too.

Maybe you’ve got dreams you had to tuck away for a little while.

Maybe you're juggling kids' practices, or business goals, or just the changing rhythms of life.

Maybe you're wondering:

Am I giving up too much? Or am I simply building something even better down the road?

 

Sacrifice often looks like putting your biggest wants on pause to serve your biggest whys.

And that's not a loss. That's wisdom.

The dangerous trap is believing we can "wait until later" to live, to connect, to show up for the people who need us now.

Because — let's be real — these stages of life don’t last forever.

Our kids? They don’t stay little.

Their schedules change. Their summers get fewer.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: Don’t miss it.

Don't miss them.

You can still tend to your dreams, brick by brick, even if the full vision has to wait a little longer.

You can still steal moments for yourself. Take the tiny trips. Add the little touches. Keep setting the table for the feast you’ll enjoy in full someday.

Because someday, in this case, will come.

And when it does, you’ll be grateful you didn’t miss today to chase tomorrow.

What does sacrifice look like in your life right now?
What are you building for down the road, even if it's just one small step at a time?
And are you choosing the kind of memories you’ll want to look back on with pride, or regret?

The seasons shift.
The summers race by.
The world keeps moving.

But when you choose sacrifice for the right reasons, you're not falling behind.
You're leading with heart.
You're betting on the things that matter most.

That's a bet you'll never lose.

Stay Relentless,

Ryan