CHARLSEY CHILDERS
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Holding It
The calling is real. The unknown is too. And somehow you're holding both.
There is a coming together that can only happen in the unknown.
The moments where you don't know yet — when it will land, how it will come together, or what it's going to look like on the other side.
The fear comes up. Joined by anxiety. Maybe even shame. Feeling the bigness of what you're called to and also the weight of not being able to see it yet.
The space where the mind reaches for answers, for timelines, for something to hold onto.
There's a pull to get to a more solid ground.
And, yet, you stay. You choose it. You hold it.
It's the way of being that doesn't try to escape it. That leads from it rather than being led by it. That sees it not as something happening to you, but something happening through you.
Where you can hold what's here AND what isn't — the uncertainty and the conviction. The fog and the internal direction. The not knowing and the deep internal knowing.
Where the unknown stops being evidence against you and starts being confirmation of you.
Because something in you is learning
that it doesn't need them in order to stay.
The evidence in order to keep going. The confirmation in order to trust what's happening through you.
That's the one who is being forged in the unknown.
Forged in the Unknown
Forged in the Unknown
The unknown, it has a reputation. And it's not a good one.
Not so much because the unknown is actually scary, but rather because of how it makes us feel: The uncertainty. The waiting. The not knowing. It's enough to make anyone's head spin. And it triggers something in us that reads like fear. And that fear doesn't feel good.
But I'm starting to see that scary doesn't mean necessarily mean wrong. And the unknown (as uncomfortable as it is) doesn't have to be the enemy it gets made out to be.
It asks something different of us... A different kind of steadiness. A deeper trust. A deeper faith. Not in the outcome, but in what's happening underneath it.
It asks you to receive in it. To decide in it. To lead from it rather than be led by it.
Forged exists because this conversation needs to exist. In my life and I'm assuming in yours. Sitting in the terrain without rushing toward the light, and finding that the ground - even though it may be unlit - can still be stable beneath us.
The channel is still open. That the calling is still there.
And that what's happening in this season isn't evidence against you;
it's confirmation of you.
The unknown didn't close the channel. It deepend it.
What you can expect:
Forged in the Unknown was born out of a season I didn't plan for. And I don't know that I'd sign up for it again.
Eight months ago my husband, Doug, was laid off. And what followed was one of the most disorienting, clarifying, faith-stretching seasons of our lives.
The income shifted. The certainty we had built our life around went quiet. And in the middle of all of it — in the unknown of his layoff — I started seeing something in the unknown of my own calling that I had never seen before: that the unknown wasn't cutting me off from what I was called to. It was deepening the channel to it. Forged is my process of discovering that.
That's why I created this. Not from a curriculum or a concept, but from a season... a real, heavy, faith-requiring season that changed how I move in the unknown. In sitting with the unknown of his layoff, I started seeing my own calling differently. The unknown that had felt like an obstacle to everything I was building started feeling like the very thing that was building me. And I had to bring this conversation forward for the ones who are feeling it too.
Inside Forged, there are three movements or zones: the terrain, the distance, the making. 11 riffs that allow us to move through the unknown with honor, self-leadership, and ownership. Where the unknown isn't something to get through or be ashamed of — but something to learn from. To receive in. To lead from.
It lives inside a private Telegram community and it's yours to inhabit in whatever way serves you most in the season you're in: you can binge all 11 riffs, let them wash over you, and come back to the ones that resonate with you most. You can take it slow, listening to one riff at a time, letting each one land before moving to the next. There's no right way to be in it. Just your way.
This experience is free, self-paced, and yours whenever you need it.
The unknown hasn't closed the channel. It's deepened it.
And Forged is where you discover that for yourself.
