Saying Yes: What Jim Carrey, a Sanctuary, and God Taught Me About Living Again

I’m reminded of this old Jim Carrey movie, Yes Man. One of the funniest moments is when Carl, backed into a corner, blurts out “Yes!” to something completely absurd simply because he’s sworn off the word “no.” It’s over‑the‑top and ridiculous — classic Jim Carrey — but it perfectly sets the stage for how wildly his life begins to change once he starts saying yes to everything.

For most of my life, I’ve lived on the opposite end of that spectrum. My health issues kept me isolated, sometimes even from my own family. When you start saying no — no matter the reason — it slowly becomes a habit. Then it becomes a lifestyle. And eventually, it becomes a kind of quiet prison you don’t even realize you’re sitting in.

“I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” — John 10:10

I was taking baby steps out of that hole when I met my husband. We became friends first, and somewhere along the way we realized we meant more to each other. His presence helped me breathe again. I felt safe enough to take chances because I knew if I stumbled, he’d be there.

But like most people, my growth eventually plateaued. I told myself it was enough to have my husband — after all, he was my best friend. But the truth was, I was still keeping myself tucked away from the world.

And then God placed someone else in my path.
 

The Friend Who Said Yes

We met when she came to buy a tree from me. She had this spark — a zest for life that radiated without her even trying. She was new to the area, so I invited her to our annual Christmas cookie exchange. To my surprise, she said yes. Not only did she show up, she walked into a room full of strangers like she’d known us all her life. As a lifelong introvert, I was equal parts in awe and a little jealous.

Our friendship grew from there. This past winter, when both my husband and I fell ill, I called her and asked for help. She said yes again — showing up in freezing temperatures after a full day of work to haul water down the hill from our house after our outdoor pump froze and make sure every animal had what they needed. She kept showing up for weeks. She played with our dogs. She visited. She cared.

A couple of weeks ago, when my husband had surgery, I called her again. And again, she said yes.

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you fulfill the law of Christ.” — Galatians 6:2

I didn’t realize it when I first met her, but God knew exactly what He was doing. He knew I needed a friend who would gently nudge me toward being more open, more connected, more willing to actually live my life.
 

The Danger of Autopilot

The problem with us humans is we get stuck. Stuck in our routines, in our fear and anxiety, in the comfort zones we’ve padded so carefully around ourselves. We end up living life on autopilot — going through the motions without ever really engaging with the world around us. And the danger is, autopilot doesn’t feel dramatic. It feels… normal. Familiar. Safe. But it quietly shrinks our lives one small “no” at a time.

Autopilot dims our own flame, but it doesn’t stop there. It affects the people around us — our friends, our family, our children. When we stop showing up for life, we stop showing up for them too. We become present in body but absent in spirit. We stop initiating. We stop connecting. We stop risking. We stop growing.

The truth is, autopilot is a form of self‑protection that eventually becomes self‑imprisonment. It convinces us that staying small is safer than stepping out. It whispers that routine is easier than vulnerability. It tells us that isolation is more comfortable than community. But comfort zones have a way of becoming cages if we stay in them too long.

Spiritually, autopilot is even more dangerous. It dulls our sensitivity to God’s nudges. It keeps us from noticing the opportunities He places in front of us. It makes us too distracted, too tired, or too afraid to say yes to the very things that would bring us life.

Scripture That Speaks Into This

John 10:10

“I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”

Isaiah 43:19

“See, I am doing a new thing… now it springs up; do you not perceive it?”

2 Timothy 1:7

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”

Galatians 6:2

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you fulfill the law of Christ.”

Autopilot keeps us from that fullness. It keeps us from the “new thing” God is trying to do in us. It keeps us from stepping into courage. It keeps us from carrying one another’s burdens — because you can’t carry anything for anyone when your hands are clenched around your own comfort.

Autopilot feels safe, but it costs us everything.

Small Yeses, Big Transformation

In Yes Man, the first “yes” Jim Carrey's character, Carl, gives isn’t life‑changing. It’s tiny — a loan, a class, a silly opportunity he never would’ve considered before. But that’s the thing about transformation: it rarely begins with fireworks. It usually starts with something small. In faith, God often works the same way. He begins with:

• a conversation
• a small act of kindness
• a prompting to help
• a moment of courage

Small obedience → big transformation. When I first extended a small act of kindness to my friend, it opened the door to us getting to know each other better. Our relationship is not the only one in my life I realize started with a small act of kindness, moment of courage, or an offer to help. In fact, many of my relationships and even opportunities that arose for me was because of these very things. I got offered jobs because I showed up and offered help without expecting anything in return. I made friends through good conversation and acts of kindness that later turned around and supported me and the rescue, not because I expected them to, but because they felt a connection with me and our mission.

I must mention my husband again, because he is the kind of guy who just stops to help a stranger in need. Even if it’s just an old man struggling with getting his groceries in the car. My husband and my friend are a throwback to an era when people helped others because it was the right thing to do, not because they expect anything in return.

Their lives remind me of Galatians 6:2, which calls us to “carry each other’s burdens,” not because we’ll get something out of it, but because that’s how we live out the heart of Christ. And their willingness to say yes — to help, to show up, to serve — has shaped my life in ways I never expected.

It’s funny how God uses the smallest yeses to open the biggest doors. Sometimes all He needs is a crack — a tiny act of courage, a moment of kindness, a willingness to step toward someone instead of away. And before you know it, that small yes becomes a turning point.

Spirit-Led Yeses 

In the movie, Jim Carrey’s character goes completely over the top with his yeses — all for the sake of comedy. At one point he even jokes about saying yes to something outrageous, and honestly, it’s the perfect moment to pause and say, “I’m not suggesting you jump off a bridge…”

Because God doesn’t call us to say yes to everything. He calls us to say yes to Him.

And that looks very different.

It’s easy to say yes impulsively. Ask anyone — I’ve been the victim of my own impulsive yeses more than once. Sometimes we say yes because we feel pressured. Sometimes because we want to please people. Sometimes because we’re trying to prove something. Even good intentions can stretch us beyond our limits and lead us places God never asked us to go.

Saying yes to God is different. It’s quieter. More intentional. More rooted.

It’s a Spirit‑led yes — the kind that comes from paying attention to the gentle nudges, the open doors, the opportunities that seem to shimmer with God’s fingerprints.

And I truly believe that if you start paying attention, you’ll begin to recognize those moments. The ones where God is giving you a push. The ones where He’s whispering, “This is the way; walk in it.” The ones where He’s inviting you to step out of autopilot and into something fuller, richer, more alive.

Sometimes His invitations look like:

• a person who crosses your path
• a need you can meet
• a conversation you feel prompted to start
• a moment of courage that rises up out of nowhere

These are the yeses that shape us. These are the yeses that lead to transformation. These are the yeses that align our hearts with His.

Scripture That Speaks Into This

Isaiah 30:21

“Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’”

Blessings Hidden Behind Obedience

When Jim Carrey’s character starts saying yes, his whole life opens up. He makes friends, finds adventure, and even stumbles into a love interest. His world expands simply because he becomes willing to step into it.

In a quieter, more real‑life way, the same thing happens to us. Even the most beautiful blessings can start to feel like routine when we’re tired, overwhelmed, or stuck in the same daily rhythm. The farm and the sanctuary are some of the greatest gifts God has entrusted to me — but I’ll be honest, the routine can make even the most wonderful blessings feel like a chore. Feeding, watering, cleaning, medicating, hauling… it’s holy work, but it’s also hard work.

And yet, something shifts in me every time someone visits and their eyes light up. When they meet the animals and hear their stories — stories of survival, healing, and second chances — I feel my own purpose wake back up. Their excitement reminds me of what I sometimes forget: that God is doing something sacred here. That these animals are living testimonies of resilience. That this place is a refuge not just for them, but for people too.

It’s in those moments I’m reminded that blessings often hide behind obedience. Behind the yeses we give God even when we’re tired. Behind the small acts of faithfulness that don’t feel glamorous. Behind the routines that feel repetitive but are actually forming something deep in us.

Obedience has a way of uncovering things we didn’t even know we needed:

• unexpected blessings
• restored relationships
• deeper faith
• renewed purpose

Sometimes God uses our yes to revive something inside us. Sometimes He uses it to open a door we didn’t see coming. Sometimes He uses it to reconnect us with the joy we lost somewhere along the way.

It’s just like Isaiah 43:19, where God says, “See, I am doing a new thing… now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” Often the “new thing” is hidden inside the ordinary. Inside the obedience. Inside the yes.

Saying Yes to God Through Writing

In a way, this blog was me saying yes to God. I’ve always loved writing. When I was younger, I spent hours scribbling poems and stories, letting my imagination run wild. But as I got older, those things slowly slipped away. Life got busy. Responsibilities piled up. And writing — something that once felt like breathing — started to feel “trivial” compared to the endless list of things that needed to be done.

When we started sharing our farm online, I knew I didn’t want it to be just cute animal pictures. There is so much more to animal rescue than cuddles and smiles. It’s real work. It’s heartbreaking. It’s exhausting. It’s devastating at times. And I wouldn’t be able to do any of it without God — or without the good friends He places in my path, or the people who support us in ways big and small.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, I felt God tugging at me again. A gentle pull back toward writing. Not just storytelling for the sake of storytelling, but writing in a way that reveals the deeper truth behind our daily life — that even in the mud, the mess, the sickness, the setbacks, and the heartbreak, God is present. That He is sustaining us. That He is teaching us. That He is weaving something good through every struggle.

There are so many reasons to be negative and downtrodden in this world. So many voices shouting discouragement, division, and despair. I didn’t want to add to that noise. I wanted to offer something different — something hopeful, honest, and rooted in Christ. Something that says, “Life is hard, but God is here. And He is good.”

So I said yes. Yes to writing again. Yes to sharing our stories. Yes to intertwining faith with the everyday struggles of rescue work, homesteading, chronic illness, and community. Yes to letting God use my words in whatever way He chooses.

And that yes — small as it seemed — has opened something in me. It’s reminded me that obedience doesn’t always look extraordinary. Sometimes it looks like sitting down with a cup of coffee and a keyboard. Sometimes it looks like telling the truth about your life. Sometimes it looks like offering your story back to God and trusting Him to do something with it.

Just like Zechariah 4:10 says, “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.” This blog is one of my small beginnings. One of my yeses. And I’m learning that when we say yes to God — even in the quiet, ordinary ways — He has a way of turning it into something far bigger than we imagined.

Conclusion

Saying yes to God doesn’t always look impressive from the outside. Sometimes it’s simply choosing to show up, to listen, or to take one small step forward. And I know some of you are reading this and already thinking of all the reasons — or excuses — you want to keep saying “no” to life. Because saying no is comfortable. Saying no is easy. Saying no lets you stay right where you are without risking anything.

But here’s the truth: we don’t grow without a little discomfort. A plant doesn’t flourish by staying in the same tiny pot forever. Its roots need room to stretch, to push against the soil, to break through the dark before it ever reaches the light. Growth always requires a little pressure, a little movement, a little willingness to be unsettled.

It’s the same with us.

God invites us into a bigger life — not by overwhelming us, but by nudging us to take one small yes at a time. And those yeses, as simple as they seem, are what allow our roots to deepen and our lives to bloom in ways we never expected.